First Impressions Lead to Lessons
by FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: 'Not more than a few minutes after we stepped out of Underworld I could tell she wasn't the sweet thing she pretended to be.' Charon/FLW Charon's POV
1. Coward

Revised Nov, 18, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

* * *

_'Not more then a few minutes after we stepped out of Underworld I could tell she wasn't the sweet thing she pretended to be.'_

Her hips swayed in front of him, no doubt knowing the effect she was garnering from the Ghoul. With the arousal she caused, anger came with it just as strong. She had armor with her, so why did she feel she needed to be in those shorts and that fucking shirt? This may have been a small game to her, but it was going to become a big problem for him. He couldn't help but follow her backside with his eyes. You could only ignore your natural instinct when you weren't reminded constantly of them. Yes, he had fucked some ghoul women in Underworld. Greta being one of them, and the memory made him disgusted. Even as a Ghoul he couldn't stand fucking his own kind . . .

He couldn't remember the last time something that fine with skin came crawling around the 9th Circle. A little Vaultie, cleaner and smoother then even the regular smoothskins the Ghouls craved. The way her chin held up high and her posture stayed straight even as she walked. He immediately took a dislike towards her, she didn't even look his way until Azruhkal threatened a drunk, popping Charon's name into their conversation to add further fear. Only then did she begin a series of carefully acted questions concerning him and his contract.

Her overly wide smile caught the attention of every ghoul in the bar, undressing her in their minds, maybe even fucking her. _'Probably fucking her . . . I know I was.'_

She knew it too._ 'That's what makes her so fucking infuriating.'_ Looking back at him with a fake childish look as they traveled through the wastes. _'Oh if only I could wipe that look off her face. Fuck it off her face . . . '_ He felt himself dabbling into dangerous thoughts. Quickly he turned to the wasteland, finding something, anything to turn his train of thought.

_'If she would just stop moving like that . . .'_

He watched the rocky cliff to their right, still seeing her in his peripherals. Her body had stopped it's provocative stride. Whatever her reasons were, whether she was tired or just bored, he let out a inaudible sigh of relief. In this state he barely caught himself from falling into the bitch as she stopped without a word. Her fingers going to that contraption on her wrist. For all he knew she was smiling in triumph from his near blunder. Knowing she had made him clumsy with her deliberate actions.

He grumbled inaudible phrases as she turned to Galaxy News radio. His eyes ran over the device, he couldn't help but be impressed that some of the Pre-War technology was still around, and she, the bitch, had it, of all people. From the Vault no doubt. Music came out loudly and they both recoiled, she turned it down quickly to a nice level. Butcher Pete jarred the wasteland.

_He's Hackin'! and Wackin'! and Smackin'!_

_'Ironic . . .'_ Charon tuned the words out, as he began to follow her again. Her head bounced to the side casually as the song hummed. It had been 15 minutes since they had left his last boss, crumbled on the floor with his head missing, and instead of saying a word to him she was playing the goddamn radio.

_'Bitch . . .'_ His mind went sour after that and he managed to keep his indulgent thoughts at bay. Relying on faded sounds of the music and the red distant land in front of them.

* * *

They traveled into the night, only being bothered by a few radscorpions until now, all of which she happily let him take care of. He was fine with that, even though his opinions of her were still low, he enjoyed this much better then being cooped up in the 9th Circle. Those days blended together too easily for Charon's liking. Standing in that same damn spot, at the beck and call of that narcissistic ghoul.

_'Killing daily . . .'_ That sounded good. That sounded real good.

Now he was crouching down to the ground as she was, sneaking their way past a camp of Super Mutants. There were probably more but he could tell she didn't want to stay and find out. Despite her coarse attitude she hadn't yet shown him any true endurance, or any killing ability for that measure. She was slow while they traveled and quick to evade danger.

_'No wonder she purchased the contract . . .'_ He grunted, despite feeling a bit better about who had the upper hand between the two. '_Weak little Vaultie pretending to be a badass.'_ The idea made Charon's lips lift in something that could be called a smile.

Deeper into D.C. they sneaked, and the place was crawling with Frankensteins. There were two out in the open near the Metro Station. By the way her eyes were darting around between the Mutants and the Metro he knew that was her goal. To hide like a coward in the Metro, with weak feral ghouls. He kept himself hidden, a foot from her ready and able to act if necessary. She didn't acknowledge him except for the wrinkling of her nose.

_'You don't smell too good yourself . . .'_ Everything about her insulted him, he determined, his eyes narrowing in a deadly glare. Not that she could see it in the dark even if she had been paying attention. Her lack of action was making him itchy, he began to reach behind him for the shotgun on his back. Gripping it and bringing it around in front of him in a fluid manner. Her head whipped to the side, staring at what she thought was his face.

"Don't do anything stupid," she whispered in a condescending tone and turned back to the green giants. He obeyed her, almost hoping the stupid plan she had failed, just to see her in defeat. They stayed there a few more agonizing minutes when he saw her begin to move against the crumbling divider, he prepared himself to follow. She only gave him a small indication that she was ready, a little glance, and then she was off. Going as fast as she could while crouching down, he followed her more swiftly keeping his barrel pointed and at the ready in case a Mutant saw them. Saw them they did.

A large bellowing noise sounded in the deserted area. A mutant caught the shape of Charon before he had time to get into proper cover, behind the 'bitch'.

Despite being seen he followed the Vaultie down the cement steps and in front of the chain gate. Her angry face was what greeted him. From her Pipboy he saw she could tell that they were slowing as they approached the two. A look of fear flashed on her face for an instant before she turned to him, furious.

Her fists balled and she shook, "This is all your fault," she whispered harshly, pulled out her dainty 10mm pistol from the waistband of her shorts like it was her last lifeline.

_'No wonder she does't want to shoot at anything. Only a Bloatfly could be brought down by that weapon.'_ With that thought he quickly cocked his shotgun and eased his way up the steps, ready and willing to take a limb to protect her. He heard one of the two Frankensteins to his right. With one glance back at the Vault girl, who looked awkward holding that gun of hers, he sprung out in front of the super mutant and began firing into it's chest.

The sounds that came from the mutant were quite satisfactory. Noises of intense pain as one more shot from his barrel tore one of it's arms clean off. Charon took minimal damage to his right arm. A few bullets grazed his 'skin', but the pain was beginning to dull as his attention was turned to the remaining super mutant.

_'And I thought I was ugly . . ._' The mutant's lips were pulled back and it's yellow teeth ground together in a stupefied fury. The big hulking mass charged, a super sledge gripped in it's green fists.

"Heewmon!" Its voice was animalistic. It was slower than he expected, giving Charon perfect time to aim the shot right at it's head. He dropped to one knee and pulled the trigger. The shot crippled the super mutants head and it stopped, holding it's head a moment and despite the disadvantage it resumed it's charge.

Another shot rang out and the head of the Frankenstein went flying, landed and rolled to the side of a guard rail, that toothy grin still in place and even uglier than when it was attached.

Blood coated him as he made his way back to the Metro station entrance, and she wasn't there. He grumbled and trudged down the steps. The gate was ajar. _'Least she left the door open,'_ was all he could think as he let himself in, immediately being engulfed in a dark green glow. Some lights flickered near the ticket booth catching his attention. He saw a silhouette sitting in the booth. Not moving.

His boots crunched above the broken glass and the random debris that littered the tile floor. He approached the booth and stepped into the opening. His frame taking up the light that would normally be illuminating her face. It wasn't until the sound of his dripping blood hit the floor she acknowledged him. He stood there, wanting her to see what he saw, the coward she was for sitting there, while he bled.

"Serves you right for blowing our cover." She said those words as her eyes narrowed. Maybe she was trying to see where he was hurt._ 'Fat chance.'_

The Ghoul hid his fury and began to step further into the booth with her, slowly. Getting closer until he was a foot from her. She refused to look up at him, her eyes kept to her knees.

"If you need to be taught the proper ways of surviving in this wasteland, I can be of service . . . You know that." His tone was one of dismal.

"I don't need to be taught shit!" She spat her words and stood abruptly. "Stand aside, Ghoul."

He pushed back against the wall of the booth as she squirmed past him. Once free of the confined space she let out a squeal of frustration and stomped down to the departure platform, leaving Charon to trail after her.


	2. Victimizer

Revised Nov, 18, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

* * *

The first thing that Charon noticed were the billowing clouds of stale air, illuminated by fog lights. They hung around him with a smell that was even worse than himself after a few hours in the sun.

_'Rotten Meat . . .'_ He was bitter and he knew it.

Rubbish was littered all around the platform, skeletons hung off benches with their luggage beside them. He scanned the area vaguely, watching the girl out of his peripherals. She was scavenging the seats and trash cans for anything of value. Soon he saw her ripping suitcases from stiff finger bones, rifling through the junk that was left inside. Apparently not all of it was junk, since he saw her in a dirty yellow dress soon after.

_'How befitting . . .'_ He grumbled to himself and followed behind her as she made her way down stairs.

There were a few feral ghouls on this level, which he took great pleasure in killing, each one bringing a sense of gratification. He was letting them finally die, like they should have . . . like he should have.

The last one's head exploded under the force of his shotgun shell. It fell with a slick thud and rolled into the train tracks. Only the sound of his employer's heels got him to turn from the corpse, moving yet again down another tunnel. With his body in alert mode, scanning all around him, he thankfully had no time to be distracted by her and her little yellow dress. (Which, unbeknownst to him, she was trying to enthrall him with.) His eyes shot to the left instantly, hearing and smelling the ferals just around the corner.

They both moved, she backwards and him forwards. Charon charged ahead with his shotgun at the ready, while 101 sank back out of sight from the ferals. By this time he had come to expect it from her, falling back and clutching that worthless pistol to her chest. _'Pathetic . . .'_

Machine-like, he cocked his gun, aimed and shot until the last one hit the floor. Despite the deafening buzz in his body he heard her clamor near him. Stopping a few feet away, more than likely surveying the carnage. A glowing feral lay to the right of him, the extreme radiation making it look even more hideous then the common ones. Charon didn't stare at them too long. That after-kill feeling was at its peak and his eyes fogged with a trained euphoria.

_'This is the only pleasure I need.'_ He savored the blood lust for a moment before turning around, staring at her face, awaiting her next move. Her eyes were still on the glowing ghoul, in the dark he figured she couldn't see how disfigured they really were.

'_Well now she does . . .'_ This was a rude awakening for her, he realized. Her face took on an expression of horror. Her eyes fluttered and then she shut her mouth tightly. Charon couldn't help but notice how unattractive she was when she did that. He remained silent after he remarked on how similar she looked to a scared shitless child.

Her head spun up to his and he in-turn made eye contact. For a moment she looked angry with herself and then the next moment, guilty. He had forgotten until recently how moody women were. She acted like Pre-War women in internal strife. It was something else to hate about her.

"Don't just stand there, see if they have any caps on them." She made a motion with her hand, as if to show him where they were.

"No." It came out solid, just as Charon had intended. No was no. He saw her face falter slightly before she quickly bent down to delicately remove the few caps off the bodies. No comeback, no remark, or even a scathing look.

Without a second glance at him she continued down the curved tunnel. He watched and followed, always alert and ready. She began looking around, frantic, for platform signs. She put her Pipboy light on and shot the light over the walls. Even if she did find markers she wouldn't be able to read them in their condition. Too much decay, like everywhere else. He hadn't seen much of the outside before the war but what little he did, he remembered. Just the comparison of then and now made him feel slightly _off_.

Quickly he wiped some blood from his face and followed the girl through a metal door and into a maintenance room. She'd gotten herself this far, almost all of it without his help. '_How?_' He felt offended that she, as he saw her now, could even make it 10 yards out of the vault. Sure, she had luck and charisma but that would only get her so far. Without strength and endurance she would have surely been slaughtered, but here she stood. Lingering by a computer, typing in passwords. She must have put it into lock down with the way she flung herself from the monitor with a shrill sound.

He couldn't help but grin.

* * *

When they emerged they were at Georgetown east. It wasn't familiar and Charon immediately became tense. The sky was bright with the afternoon sun. It glared in his eyes forcing his attention to the face of the girl.

One hand was sheltering her eyes as she faced him, her head nodded up the stairs and he followed after her. No ambush. Everything was quiet, which was almost _more_ unsettling. At this angle the sun wasn't so bad. He thought for a moment of asking her where it was they were headed, but it wouldn't matter in the end whether he knew or not. The curiosity diminished as he stood still behind her, while she once again began to fiddle with the contraption on her wrist.

The normally soft 'peeps' and 'boops' of her Pipboy now began to grate at his ear drums. In the silence it was maddening. 

_'Deafening.'_

"We're going to the Lincoln Memorial . . ." She looked up at him with a blank facade. ". . . In case you were wondering."

He barely registered she had said anything. Now that she wasn't wiggling her hips in front of him, she became nothing more then a cocky smoothskin. He didn't even look at her. Out the corner of his eye he saw her make a seething face, ducking her head against her shoulders a bit. _'So much for the tough hero of the wastes,'_ he sneered.

* * *

It only took moments to stumble upon the towering structure, the iconic beacon with it's missing head. He'd never seen this in person before the bombs dropped but knew of what it looked like before. It was surrounded by metal walkways and stairs, and on those walkways was a merchant's caravan. They stood already having spotted them, staring, especially at her.

The Vault girl was already jogging to the caravan, in turn Charon picked up his pace, keeping near her like she had ordered him to earlier outside the Museum of History. She quickly began engaging in pointless conversation, flashing a smile to the middle-aged merchant. Using her charms to her advantage, as he over heard the word "discount" twice. She knew what to do to wrap them around her finger. The body guard he had was to the left of her, running his eyes up and down her frame.

Charon passed it off as accessing her as a threat or not, since the guards eyes then went to Charon and did the same. They both locked eyes, a 'fuck you' contest was about to begin.

" ...and shotgun ammo." He heard her say as he focused back to the scene in front of him.

"No problem." They exchanged goods, him taking his time, looking at her and smiling while she tried to rush things. He smirked at her. "You need somp'thin '_else_'?"

Charon stared at her, it was the first time he saw her confused. Even he at first thought the merchant meant something more on the sexual side, but what he was about to say was worse.

She opened her mouth to speak . . . but the dealer cut her off.

"By the look of those bags unda' your eyes you look like you could use some psycho . . . Or maybe jet's your bag . . ."  
Charon watched her, that sixth sense of his knew shit was about to go down.

". . .Come to think of it.."

_'This is going to turn ugly.'_

". . .You look like a jet junk-" The merchant's eyes popped as the butt of her pistol slammed into the side of his jaw, dislocating it in a split-second.

The scene happened in slow motion. Her face, he saw, flashed with the promise of murder, complete with red cheeks. In a fluid motion she lifted that pistol from her side and brought it straight against the face of her offender. The contact was loud, the _crack_ that sounded was even louder than the guttural cry from the accosted man.

Despite the quick shift in moods, before she had time to land another sick smack against the man's face, Charon was already lifting the shotgun from his back, quicker then the bodyguard was able to defend against. In the few seconds before the guard's gun was pointed at his employer, he had already fired a round of buck shot into his chest.  
In a splatter of blood the guard was down on the ground croaking and gurgling.

**'smack!'**

Charon still was in position as he drank in a few large breaths.

**'smack' . . .'smack!' . . . 'crunch!'. . .**

Slowly he lowered the shotgun.

**'crack!' . . . 'SMACK!'**

The merchant's eyes lolled to the side, the noise of the attack becoming squishy. If he had skin it would have gone pale as he witnessed the girl on her knees, straddling the 'poor' man. His face caved in as she repeatedly slammed her gun into the growing hole of his face. Blood was all over her arms and her 'new' dress. Her lips were pulled back exposing clenched teeth. A cold shiver settled down his spine as he watched her go to town on the merchant. In a last strike she brought her arms up, but she paused and soon dropped the wet weapon, letting it fall to the metal floor, the gun's frame almost seemed to shiver with the force of the fall.

To say that it was disgusting was an understatement, her face speckled with blood and something else . . .white.

_'So much for pathetic . . .'_ She looked him in the eyes then, causing another shiver to go through him, one he wanted to forget about immediately.

"I'm not a junkie."


	3. Teaser

Revised Nov, 18, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

* * *

The eyes of a devil seared him through tarnished bangs. Soon the shock was gone and the recent events began to sink in. In his mind he could still hear the dull wet smacks of her gun on that man's skull. His head began to nod slowly, while remaining as expressionless as possible, giving her that silent agreement.

_'She's not a junkie.' _But she was a bomb just waiting to be detonated. He witnessed her casually move off her 'victim', hopping over the now stiff bodyguard, and heading up the walkway.

The brahmin made unnatural noises, each head staring off in different directions. With a quick brush off Charon too was stepping over the corpses to follow the girl.

This turn of events was making Charon question the stability of his new employer. Usually he could determine someone's intentions within a few moments. He couldn't remember the last time a smoothskin was so hard to read. One moment she was seducing him, the next disgusting him, and now he was feeling only vaguely intimidated by her.

Not that her actions were completely shocking. Charon had done many things he tried his best to not ponder on, but he had always been ordered to do those nasty deeds, which made it easy to lift the blame from himself, when normally one would feel guilt. _'If it wasn't my hand it would have been someone else's.' _Quick way to erase the guilt, before it settled in too deep.

Though the way her persona so quickly shifted from calm to murderous was what caused him to call her mind into question. At least it answered his former question. _'How could she have survived this long all alone? . . . With sheer brute force.' _He heard the radio volume increase, she having obviously turned it up to listen to the particular song playing. The air filled with _Maybe._ He scoffed at the song but enjoyed the gap it filled between them, which had begun to grow awkward with the constant clearing of her throat.

Soon it seemed that the girl noticed the walkways weren't leading to the entrance, instead it dipped down against the side of the building. She looked lost and angry, he thought. He, on the other hand, couldn't care less. Either way he was stuck with her.

"How the fuck do you get in then?" Her tone was rhetorical so he didn't give her an answer. He stood on the sloping walkway, looking down at her. _'She can figure it out herself . . .' _Which she did.

"Ah-ha!" She had found the door, albeit a back door of sorts but an entrance nonetheless. He watched her swing the door open and scramble inside, soon he himself was inside.

* * *

The Gift Shop, or so the sign to his left read, was humid but cold. Bits of matter fell from the ventilation shafts, drifting in the distance. His eyes grazed along old books and memorabilia that scattered the floor and nearly every other surface.  
The pretty face on a worn poster caught his attention. The woman's eyes were ripped but the big white smile still stood out. Women like her were abundant before the war, even he had stories of his own about a few, but that was the past.

Soon he managed to drag his eyes away from the one dimensional face and to the three dimensional one in front of him. She didn't look happy with him. Then again she seemed unhappy most of the time, unless she was trying to get something she wanted.

He saw her eyes flash with mild envy, switching back and forth from him to the poster a few times before turning her back to him. She petered off down a dark hallway without a sound. Charon wasn't shocked, but it wasn't something he thought she'd be bothered by either. _'Only a selfish bitch would be offended by a ghoul checking out a smoothskin on a fucking wall.'_

He became offended himself. On his way behind her he gave an old metal bucket a good hard kick, the slam it caused against the wall was satisfying. The smoothskin, despite the loud sound, ignored his outburst. She peeked around a hallway. It was a long one, with strangely, a bed in the middle of its length. At one time the carpet must have been red. Now it squished peculiarly under the weight of their steps. The air smelt moldy. Caused by the plant life growing in the carpet no doubt.

She idly strolled up the hallway, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder. _'How could she deal with the smell, especially with that blood drying on her?' _As they walked, she was the first to break the silence.

"Charon..." That was the first time she had said his name, at least to address him with.

His head moved to her backside, then the back of her head, "Yes?" He said this more softly then he meant to. She acted as if he had not spoken and kept walking, not looking back.

"That's a funny name..." He heard the smirk in her voice, she clasped her hands behind her back, taking on a childish stroll.  
"...Shhhhaarron. Isn't that a girl's name?" She made a stifled sound, suppressing a giggle he figured.

_'Trying to get a rise out of me?' _He sneered to himself, yellow teeth showing past his thin lips. The bitch was trying to tease him, and he didn't like being teased. The very idea of remaining with her like this, being mocked for some small amusement, made his blood boil. Despite this, only a flicker of anger shown on his face before he shoved it deep down, regaining his composure.

"It's better than Beatrice . . . " As soon as he spoke her name she stopped, a few feet from the door they where heading to. He couldn't help the small smirk that began to show on his lips.

"I don't remember telling you my name!" She spat. Her voice rose with emotion but she remained turned away from him.

"How did you-"

"You introduced yourself to Azrukhal . . . as Betty. I knew a woman who went by that, but her name was really Beatrice."

"That's not my NAME!" She whirled around as she shouted. He knew she was lying, and she knew he knew she was lying, but that didn't stop her from opening her mouth for more.

"Who do you think you are anyways? Your just a ghoul! My ghoul!" Her cheeks became red with anger he guessed, maybe embarrassment too.

"I. Own. You."

Those three words, made a sliver of heat go through him. _'More then she knows, thankfully.'_

He watched her pause, not really looking at him but around him. "Doesn't it scare you to know I could have you do anything . . ?" Her voice became low and unreadable.

"I could make you do whatever I want, even if you loathed it . . . you'd do anything." At this point he did become apprehensive. On her last words her tone had turned husky.

Her eyelids dropped. He saw her eyes shift behind him, the bed behind them in the hallway. She was staring at the bed, then back to him. She casually leaned the side of her body against the wall before the door, as if she had realized something that made her dizzy.

Charon wasn't stupid, he knew what her body language meant and the soft rumbles of her voice. Here she was again, now the seductress, shedding off the earlier death bringer layer.

He noted the arch of her back that pushed her breasts further out, the twist of her hips, the blush, and that look she gave him now. She eyed him, expecting him to say something. He stared her down, the only thing he could do. What else could he do or say? She wasn't afraid to use all her power over him, at least not by the way she looked now. The tension began to grow rapidly as he saw one of her hands reach up to her face. She coyly put a finger to the edge of her mouth, nibbling at the digit, staring him down as he was her.

"Take your clothes off . . ." She spoke slow, looking as though she were savoring the words.

The demand should have shocked him, but it didn't.

"Is that an order?" _'Why bother confirming . . .'_

"You bet it is."


	4. Commander

Revised Nov, 18, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

* * *

"Well . . .?" Her voice was so shaky that it took a moment for him to realize it was hers.

_'Not so confident sounding now, are we?'_ He had lifted his hands up to the first straps of his leather armor when the soft echo of her command began to gain volume in his mind.

Pausing only for a second or two, before her impatience came out in an odd tone of voice. _'Well..?' _Again he was stricken with how often her mood seemed to shift. He inwardly grinned. It felt like once again he had the upper hand, even if he was the one disrobing.

Her eyes widened when he didn't continue. Did she expected him to flee? He _would_ if he could. Though he couldn't, so his fingers slowly undid the first buckle. Then the second. All the while the Vaultie stared right at him, still as stone.

With a hunch and hitch of his back he loosened the upper armor completely, over his head it went, with it his anatomy was revealed. With a shuffle the leather hit the floor. Charon was bare from the waist up, the unfamiliar cool air against his 'flesh' caused him to stop a moment before reaching to his belt buckles.

He watched her eyes, not needing to look down to finish disrobing himself. They shifted over his upper half, paying special attention it seemed, to the whites of his jutting collar bones. Those eyelids drooped with something foreign to him, it wasn't lust, but close to it. He began to hear her breathing, soft but audible. She was forcing him to degrade himself and it was turning her on. It couldn't have been because of his body, those days were long gone.

_'She's getting off on forcing me.'_ He repeated that conclusion a few times so it sunk in, he wouldn't get his hopes up so easily. _'That's what she wants anyways, right?' _He convinced himself, but even after so many decades a small part of his brain still wanted to believe a woman could want him.

He watched those eyes change yet again, then he heard her speak, just as he had undone the last belt buckle. Thankfully she shouted the word. He could not have heard another whisper from her over her ringing demand against his eardrums. _'Take off your clothes . . .'_

"Wait!" It sounded like the whine of a child, fitting since she looked just as scared as one for a moment.

He did wait, his hands remaining onto his undone belt. She looked him over, sucking her bottom lip, in surprisingly, a very non enticing manner. _'What was going on in that little head of hers . . .?' _She looked as though she were weighing multiple options in her head, the outcomes and the benefits. He sneered outwardly, a low rumble escaping his throat. That caught her attention.

She looked at him, the focus leaving her eyes. She made a small smile, it was almost beautiful. Almost.

The ghoul couldn't help but tense when he witnessed her leave the wall and he definitely couldn't control the instinct to withdraw from her when she came too close. She got too close. He could smell her breath, and surely she could smell him.

"You really. . . can't say no. . . can you?" He hated the pity in her voice more than anything so far. Even witnessing the blatant skull bashing and the seduction wasn't as bad as hearing her voice then. It made him angry. So much so that he couldn't help his next action, even with the contract's words blazing before his vision.

Quickly without a seconds hesitation his hand came up to her throat, wrapping around the fragile croon of her neck with a deadly grip. Her eyes bulged.

He squeezed her neck.

She didn't have time to make a sound, but she did manage a deep nasally inhale. He saw the fear again, it was a better color on her than sympathy. Another tight squeeze on her neck brought her around the corner, now anger was her color.  
As if she had come up with another scheme while almost being strangled, her face changed. She smirked at him. _'She's smirking!' _

He quickly eradicated that smirk as he increased the pressure around her neck. Only when he felt her small hands on his forearm did he begin to realize what he was actually doing, so he slowly loosened his grip.

A strangled cough came out her throat and the corner of her eyes began to water. '_Oh how I want to snap her neck.'_  
She made a gargling sound, and he deciphered the word 'go' which was enough, _'Yes, I will let go.'_ He attempted to pull his hand back from her but those hands on his arm remained, keeping him like he was, only now he held her neck gently. She just looked at him, waiting.

He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help running his fingers over her skin, feeling its texture. _'Too smooth.' _Maybe that's what she was waiting for, for him to prove to her that he wanted some part of her, even if it was just the skin she was wrapped in.

It had been a long while since he'd touched skin, real smooth skin. '_Smoothskin . . ._' His eyes glazed over, momentarily forgetting the previous desire to kill her.

"You hurt me." He felt the vibration in her throat as she spoke. Against the previous silence, her words were welcomed by him. He didn't mean to hurt her, he did, but he didn't mean it. He couldn't. The feel of her skin caused only a certain type of thought to gather in his mind. _'No . . . goddammit!'_

With a jerk of his shoulder he loosened her grip on his arm, pulling his hand from her and back to his side. He looked down at the arm like it was now diseased, contaminated by her touch, by her skin.

"I did not wish to hurt you . . . forgive me." He mumbled. She had brought her hands to her throat, touching the redness that already showed, there would be bruises in an hour. He knew. He even decided he liked the idea of her skin being covered in purple and yellow blemishes, that he put them there.

Just the idea caused his fingers to twitch, that and the sight of her caressing her neck softly. It was like witnessing her please herself, the way she touched the skin there. For a moment his mouth went dry.

"If your going to touch me it better not be with violence." She spoke quickly, gripping her neck and staring at the floor. The gross, smelly floor.

_'So that was her game.'_ He frowned, "I wouldn't want to touch you _any_ other way."

He hurt her with that, he saw it in her face. Her eyes squinted and her lips thinned, but she removed the look quicker then he thought she could. Maybe she had picked up on his half truth. She made a 'phfft' type of noise, blowing some hair from against her cheek. Her eyes became angry again but she didn't say anything.

Instead of making a comeback she simply took the loss like a 'mature adult' and walked through the door. He watched her disappear past the door frame. The mood didn't leave with her though, and he fucking hated that.

Charon stood where she left him, giving himself a few moments to register what had just occurred. As he buckled up his armor, tightening the leather to his chest, he thought of her. He didn't have long though when the 'bitch' began to shout in the next area. Her voice demanding him to come to her. And come he would.

* * *

Behind sandbag cover were two super mutants, crouching, trying to fire at the Vault girl behind a turned over desk. She was to his right in the open room, fresh blood was on the ground besides her. Her body was shaking and awkwardly bent behind the desk. Charon didn't even bother getting into cover. He quickly slung his shotgun from his back against his shoulder. He aimed and shot. Aimed and shot, the repetition continued until the second and last mutant was decapitated. Smoke filled the air from his shots. The ghoul turned to his employer with great difficulty.

In the end Charon could take many more bullets then she could, so when he turned with blood oozing from his body and saw _her_ blood soaked thigh he decided to fix her up before himself. 'Course, if she commanded him to, it wouldn't have been his decision anyways.

She was still behind the desk, but now she was slumped, legs splayed but bent. The clean bullet hole was almost lost in the blood that was leaking, dirt and dust stuck to the bloody mess making it even more contrasting next to the other leg. Despite the desire to hurt her himself just a few minutes ago he became slightly enraged at the thought of someone else harming her.

_'It's the contract.'_ The contract was making him feel the need to keep her safe, of course. His mind relaxed as he reassured himself of that fact. He walked to her, only a slight limp made his strides look unsteady.

_'Hasn't she been shot yet?'_ She was watching him the whole time. He saw the effect that the gun shot had on her. She was in mild shock. It was a common occurrence in the wastes, and if you couldn't handle a couple bullets then you just weren't fit for living.

Her lower lip quivered as she gripped the area around the bullet hole, it probably felt better, but it was only squeezing blood out of her quicker. He knelt down with a grimace of pain, for a moment they made eye contact.

"T-take care of...this, would ya...?" She gave him an order and he followed it.

He grabbed her thigh, bare in his hands. Her words repeated in his head over and over again, like a record on a loop. _'T-take care of...this, would ya...?'_ He injected her with stimpacks, still the words echoed. He poured a bottle of vodka over the wound, _still_ the command rang loud. Her order in his head even muffled her own shriek of pain, as the alcohol seeped into the hole.

_'T-take care of...this, would ya...?'_ He was quick and not very gentle, the sooner he fixed her up the sooner her words would fade.

He cringed while ripping off the thick hem on her yellow dress, a semi clean length of cloth that he secured around the entry and exit holes. He tied it tight with a jerk which caused her to whimper. He heard that through the repetitive drone, and he liked it. Too much.

_'T-take care of...this, would ya...?'_ He finished the makeshift bandage/tourniquet and the noise in his head began to fade.

_'Yeah..' _Soon it was just the sound of their heavy breathing.

Her face was pale and sweaty. But she became blotchy in his vision. Quickly he braced the top edge of the desk beside them, bracing himself as his head swam. Darkness began creeping at the edge of his vision, expanding until her face darkened and disappeared. He felt the smoothskin's body against him, hands on his shoulders before he blacked-out.


	5. Vixen

Revised Nov, 19, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

* * *

When Charon awoke it was accompanied by a severe headache. The pain he felt first, before he could even see straight. Though, as his visual acuity became crisper he noticed that he was nearly in the same spot he had landed in. Just on his back and without the bitch crushed under him.

_'That would have been a sight.'_ Despite the pain he inwardly smiled. The idea of crushing her to death as he passed out was too entertaining to ignore.

He saw from this angle the area where the wall met the ceiling. Cracks leaked with little trails of . . . water? He couldn't tell. The whole place was one big crack, one big mildew-stained shit hole.

With great care he gingerly turned his head from side to side, surveying most of the area.

A strange sulfur smell caught his senses, and he sniffed. He noticed, as he looked down the length of his body, she had poured all their dirty water on him. Maybe she wasn't as terrible as he assumed, then again, you wouldn't want your only 'weapon' to get all rusty now, would you? That was the smell though, as if he needed to smell any worse. He grimaced.

_'Where the fuck was she, anyways?'_ He scanned the area again as best he could, making sure she wasn't hiding for whatever reason.  
He found no trace of her except the water that was still damp on him, which meant she must still have been close by. Obviously now able to walk, thanks to him. Another pang of hatred settled into his chest. '_Fuck her anyways . . .' _He tensed the muscles in his abdomen while lifting himself up into a sitting position.

_'Yeah fuck the shit out of her.'_

"Goddammit..." He groaned. His hand immediately found his skull, the pain became worse as he changed his previous reclining position. As soon as the pain ceased its throbbing he once again looked around. Much of the desk had blocked his view of the whole room while he was lying down. Now he could see another room, featuring a bar with tables, and bottles of booze littering the floor. She wasn't in there either.

With a loud grunt he managed to pull himself up with the help of the desk. Gripping the side as he steadied himself. Once again the pain in his head increased and throbbed. He cupped his forehead with one hand and hunched over. For a moment the pain was overwhelming. Then, as he knew it would, the pain began to fade into a constant dull ache. He blinked hard and quick, gaining his bearings before starting out on his search for the 'bitch'.

* * *

He had checked several rooms.

One storage closet, which he found, had a large supply of dirty water. He gulped down two bottles and poured one on his bloody arm. It stung, but soon the familiar prickling told him that the tissue was beginning to mend itself. He placed the other three on the edge of the soot covered bar. He felt better already, the pain in his temples was almost completely gone.

Again, he picked up his search. He stumbled upon another open area, bathrooms to his right and a row of shelves to his left. With her obviously not being near those shelves he turned to the bathrooms.

Instincts told him to check the womens' bathrooms first, no luck. Before he opened the door to the mens' bathrooms he stopped, the sounds of shuffling were faint but he heard them nonetheless. Either she was inside or some creature was, and if the latter was the case he needed to be ready.

Without making a single sound, Charon pulled his shotgun free and positioned it against his shoulder. He refrained from cocking it in hopes that it was her and not some mole rat. He put the tip of his boot against the edge of the door, and with a light tap it swung open. He sidestepped into the room, and no sooner did he enter when he heard a familiar female shriek.

It was her, alright.

In those first few seconds after he entered the bathroom he saw more exposed skin then he had in almost 200 years.

_'Ah Shit!'_ He caught sight of one exposed breast, the other was covered by her arm as she was evidently changing. The dirty yellow dress that was bunched up over her head gave him that clear indication. Her pale bruised stomach was bare to him as well as the long expanse of her legs. Her little shorts covered that vulnerable section of her body, that one area he wanted to see more than anything in that one moment.

He glued his eyes to her, even after she quickly pushed the dress back down over herself. It all happened in seconds. His shotgun barrel now leaned to the ground.

_'This is unexpected.'_ He then realized his mouth was open. He closed it tightly looking away from her. He paid attention to the urinal up against the wall to his right. It was disgusting and helped to keep the growing stiffness in his pants at bay. She looked equally embarrassed, and if he himself wasn't so shocked at that moment he may have just enjoyed the look of vulnerability on her face.

There they were though, he had just witnessed her in a very limited state of dress. Just like she had tried to get him to do earlier. The irony was thick in the air. Oh, and he was loving every second of it.

She _knew_ it too, he noticed, and it only made the situation worse for her of course. For him it was retribution almost. Not only that, but he got to see what he had been thinking about since she had set foot in the Ninth Circle. Probably something most men had been thinking about, human and ghoul. As he realized this, his previous shock turned to something of triumph. Once again he had the upper hand. She had just been exposed to him, a little taste of her own medicine.

He grinned, not being able to suppress it any longer, and it felt good.

Her eyes flamed in anger, in embarrassment, in whatever other emotions she had going through that infantile brain of hers. He couldn't help the almost high he got from this situation, it felt too fucking good. To fucking goo-

"You're fired." Her voiced seethed with humiliation. Did she just say what he thought she just said?

It was silent for awhile. Fire him? For this? He growled low in his throat. She really was a child. A cock-teasing, head-bashing, snot-nosed baby. She stood there before him, red-faced with shame and anger.

"Fired . . . ?" He snarled, " . . . for karma biting you in the ass? Or for a dirty ghoul like me catching a glimpse of your goods?" His voice sounded condescending. If she was really going to fire him then he was going to take matters into his own hands. She needed to be taught a few lessons, before someone else less merciful did it for him.

And she didn't say anything, just like he expected. She didn't even look up at him, to cast him a murderous glare. He was almost waiting for her confirmation so he could act on his previous whims. How badly he wanted to rough her up. In more ways then one.

_'I'm going to rip her apart . . .' _His heart began to pound in his ears. The very idea was almost _too_ much.

As if he were possessed, his boots landed one in front of the other. Like a drunk, he walked to her. Her head remained bowed down, until, he guessed, she noticed he was inching closer. She seemed scared of him, then. He was closing in on her and he knew his face must have looked murderous. Oh, he wasn't going to wait for a second confirmation now, as far as he was concerned she had already foregone his contract.

_'You're fired.'_

Yes, he was fired and he didn't have to take orders from her anymore. No more.

He backed her up against the wall. She thudded against it, hands at her sides touching the wall as well. He got another loud shriek from her as he pushed her harder against the wall, his exposed fingers grabbing the delicate balls of her shoulders. His teeth were bare, he didn't care if she was repulsed by him being this close. He knew she could smell him better now, but in this state he didn't care.

The look on her face only fueled the fire raging inside his mind. Though, something was missing from her expression. He didn't worry about it for long as he violently threw her to the floor, she landed with an appealing thud.

"No! I...d-did-n't mean it! I take it back!" She scampered across the floor below him.

For a moment he stopped, waiting for the familiar mechanical motions in his brain that would indeed command him to do as she said. Nothing came, his lips lifted in a sinister gleam. No strings attached. Nothing to hold him back anymore.

Charon always used to blame his violence on what his employer wanted, but now that he was free of such commands he realized, he liked being violent. At least right now, he did. He leaned over her. With one motion he grabbed a fist full of her hair, tugging her up. He watched her hands go to his wrist trying to loosen the hold he had on her. She made a long strangled noise, he was hurting her and it too felt great.

For a moment he thought of just breaking her right then and there, not even bothering to satiate his curiosity with what was under that dirty little dress. He didn't like the idea of raping her as much as he did hurting her.

Though all of a sudden that thought changed, with one noise his whole plan of action altered.

She moaned.

Not just a small moan that could have been mistaken for pain. This was a long, aroused moan that she made, even complete with the sight of her biting that plush lower lip of hers. She looked unmistakably aroused by his actions. He noticed the goose flesh building up on her arms and legs. She was fucking turned on!

_'What the fuck?' _

He wanted to ignore it and shake the shit out of her, but he couldn't. Now he wanted to do other things, other horrible things that he would regret right after he was spent. She was heaving, her chest rising up, making the tops of her breasts more visible. He could feel the effect she had on him more then ever, now. As his eyes danced over her flushed flesh he began to pull her head closer to him.

Suddenly she had brought her fist to the side of his face, giving him a well placed sucker punch that made his jaw rotate. He loosened his grip on her hair but didn't let go, she was pulled forward as the swing caused him to stumbled backwards. Charon only then, after landing on his ass, registered that she had punched him. He hissed and rolled her on her back, not bothering to be gentle.

For the second time that day he snaked his fingers around her fragile neck, stifling another moan from her. Was she teasing him again? As if to challenge her he ground his hips into hers. His hardness was evident now, and if she hadn't noticed it before she did now.

Instead of a reaction of fear or disgust, she made a choked moan and thrust her hips against his almost painfully. He watched her face, a half smile gracing her lips and the evident, droopy lust-filled eyes. '_She's one fucked-up broad.'_

Despite how much he wanted to sit and think of all the selfish reasons why this smoothskin wanted to work him up, he pushed the thoughts back and went on primal instinct. She seemed only vaguely shocked that he gave in to her, but it turned to lust as soon as he began pushing up her dress.

Without noticing, his grip on her neck loosened. She began to make crude soft noises as he exposed her lower body. Soon those little shorts were pulled down to her ankles, being ripped from her feet while she squirmed. Immediately his finger found her wet folds, where she was slippery and hot.

A primal noise escaped him as he slipped two fingers inside of her. She was scorching on the inside, fleshy and tight. He watched her as she spread her legs farther apart. In the heat of the moment, she had leaned up to watch him thrust his fingers in and out of her, her elbows and forearms on the dirty, wet floor. He noticed this and pushed her back, flat against the floor with a growl.

He pinned her down by her neck with a grunt as he began rubbing her clit with a thumb in conjunction with his fingering. She made all the noises he wanted to hear before he fucked her, and then some. While keeping her neck pinned to the floor he let his now slippery fingers tug at his belt loops.

It only took about five desperate tugs and pulls before he was gripping himself in his wet hand. She was lifting her legs up at his waist, while moaning and murmuring, ". . . yes. . . do it!. . . fuck..m-!" he slammed her head against the floor to shut her up. It worked, and she groaned and quieted.

While she was recovering, he rammed himself all the way inside of her, right down to the hilt. The feeling of being engulfed by her almost caused the lusty scream she produced to go unnoticed by him. He began relentlessly pounding into her, not caring if he was hurting her, in fact, had he known she was in pain it may have fueled his passion even more.

He tried to go deeper with each thrust but found that he was starting to choke her. She was turning red in the face and her moans became little 'eeps'. He released her neck and pulled out of her abruptly. He heard her gasp for breath and cough.

He flipped her over and pulled her up to her knees, at the same time pushing back into her with a slippery sound. Again she moaned with the welcomed intrusion. He didn't waste any more time as he continued his assault from behind.

In this position he managed to find the back of her head. He pushed the side of her face against a tattered paperback book that lay on the floor. She was lucky, or he would have pushed her clean face right into the grimy wet floor. She made soft grunts as she stiffened to keep her balance against his onslaught.

He felt more like a monster then he had in awhile as he fucked the shit out of her. He fully expected blood to start dripping from between them, but when he heard the noises she was making he knew she wasn't in too much pain.

He wanted to say she sounded like a whore but couldn't. She sounded marvelous and it only helped increase his pleasure. A tightening around his cock signaled she was climaxing, as well as the tension in her limbs he witnessed, followed by a low breathy moan.

As she rode her orgasm he bunched her hair up in his hand and yanked her back, so the back of her head was in the crook of his neck. He knew it must have been uncomfortable but he was so close to finishing that he didn't care if he broke her in half at that point.

He began to moan against her cheek, his hot breath flooded the whole side of her face and neck. He felt her shiver, she was still convulsing around him and the feeling was too exquisite. With a hard shudder, he began to spill inside of her. He bit down on the side of her jaw, just under her ear and groaned. He emptied himself in her with a few hard uneven thrusts.

With his orgasm came a wave of relief. All the frustration he had buried deep down inside was being washed away. Every time he had to kill an innocent woman, every time he had to sit back and watch, every time he had ever been tempted, all that was being lifted from him as his groans died out. She was arched like a contortionist with her mouth agape and eyes half open. With a daring move she shifted her hips, him still raw and deep within her. He moaned again and grabbed the back of her hair tighter.

The whimper she gave would have normally made him smile, but he remained calm as he lowered her down to the floor.

_'Shit. . . '_

He just fucked her.


	6. Beguiler

Revised Nov, 20, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

* * *

If someone had told him that a week ago he'd be accompanying the infamous 101, let alone fucking her, he would not have been amused.

_'Pretty smoothskin'_, was all he heard about her at first. Before the Vault dweller even made her way to Underworld she was all over the radio station. He would stand in that fucking corner and listen about her accomplishments and personal strife. At the time he didn't expect her to be as she was. Then again, how did a woman like that survive without having something that kept others at bay? Now, as it stood, he had her on her knees, bent over, with him softening inside her.

"This was a mistake . . ." He said this to himself, although it didn't seem like she heard him anyways.

_'Just fucked the "bitch". . .'_ He felt like frowning.

It wasn't so bad. In fact, he should have been feeling quite satisfied by this recent turn of events. He didn't, though.

With a sucking sound he withdrew from her. She made more impish noises, the sound of her breathing was loud and it filled the damp room. He growled as a feral feeling took over, her noises were hitting the mark. He pulled back his hand and smack her backside with great force, the flesh jiggled lightly under the harsh treatment.

"Ah!. . .Mmm . . ." She moaned. Was there _nothing_ he could do to cause her to squirm, with something besides desire? She was _infuriating__!_ Roughly, he pushed her away from him and began to stand. He ignored her sound of distress as he began buckling his pants.

As he fixed himself his eyes wandered over to her. Blood stains graced the floor, large circular blotches that trailed to where her knees still supported her above the floor. That finally caused a swell of pride to engulf him. _'Finally.'_ He fucked her so hard he caused bodily damage.

_'Serves her right.'_

As he pulled and hooked in the last belt buckle he witnessed her begin to compose herself. She still made these noises every so often that were almost ridiculous. Moans. She looked at him a moment but he only gave her a small glance before adjusting his armor.

"I've never been . . . fucked . . . like that before . . . " He saw that the side of her face was red and a little dirty. What was she saying? He stopped and gave her a loud, dangerous growl.

". . .And you won't again." With that he grabbed his shotgun from the floor and hoisted it, and one more glance to her he decided the best idea was to get out of dodge. She looked strange, still sitting there on the shitty floor, bloody knees and that flushed flesh. He groaned.

Before he thought any more on it he left. Walked right out the door and began retracing his steps, ready as ever to get the fuck out. She wasn't worth the trouble. Sure she was something alright and that sweet slick flesh around him was worth a lot of hardships, but not the mind fuck she put him through.

Besides, he grinned as he rounded a corner, this seemed like a better punishment for her. Let her come back begging for him if she wanted, he would relish every second of it.  
The faint sound of her rustling in the bathroom completely faded and he was left with silence. Well, except the constant drips cascading from the ceiling. He trudged forward, turning another corner into the spacious cafeteria. He came to a halt besides the bar, the three dirty water bottles still stood where he left them, what, 15 minutes ago? 20 minutes?

He couldn't tell, but he figured it didn't really matter either. With a turn of his wrist he opened one bottle and began to swallow the gritty contents. Regardless of the healing effects it had on him it still tasted like piss and he grimaced as he began downing another bottle. _'No sense it letting them go to waste.' _Besides he needed a boost after the physical activity he just engaged in. The memory caused him to smirk again.

She sure did seem to enjoy herself, despite his complete lack of restraint.

If Charon was being honest with himself he wasn't even looking to make her come, just to take out whatever frustration he could on her, and instead of breaking her, he fucked her. He fucked her good, too.

_'Fuck . . .'_ Again, he began to grow hot and hard. He had to stop thinking about it or he would be the one begging her and not the other way around.  
He threw the empty bottle across the floor after he swallowed the last drop. It rolled on the floor and for some reason his eyes followed it, rolling to a stop before bare feet. Her bare feet.

_'Right on time.'_ His eyes trailed up the dirty feet, to blotchy red knees, yellow dress past her curves and to her face. She was looking at him, her shoes dangling in one hand while in the other she held a holodisk. The dress swayed like soggy strips of cloth as she began to tiptoe to him. For once, she looked meek, not cowardly, but meek. If he had eyebrows they would have cocked up at the sight. She truly was baffling.

He stood with one hand on the bar, watching her as she came to him, stopping a few feet from him. A reasonable distance. He waited for her to speak.  
Her knees wobbled and she opened her mouth, but no words came out. She then walked to the side of him, placing her shoes and the disk on the bar. He wanted to move away from her but he held his stance, staring at her as she tried to form words.

"My dad's in Vault 112 . . ." She spoke so softly he barely heard her. She tapped the holodisk on the bar as if to indicate that this new info came from the plastic disk. Why did he care? He remained silent watching her lips move again.

"Would you consider following me there?"

He watched her lean against the bar trying to come off indifferent as her eyes narrowed. She sure was some piece of work. His eyes ran over her body, it was angled in a vaguely provocative manner, and he couldn't help staring. He stopped his eye fucking as she turned to look at him, a cheek pushing against her shoulder. She knew what to do to make him squirm as well, it seemed.

"What is your offer?" Like he even had to ask. The way she was looking at him told him just what she was offering him in return. A place to stick his meat.

"You know, I've been trying to get you to do that since we got out of the Ninth Circle . . . didn't know I'd have to fire you first." She looked down at the bar, he watched her draw little shapes in the soot.

He knew better then to trust every word she said, for all he knew she was just teasing him and only now realized he wasn't such a push over.

"Then why not tell me to take care of you? Instead of getting your kicks from shoving your cunt in my face." He grumbled.

She took offense to that, alright. He watched her face mar with hate as she shoved herself from the bar.

"You goddamn zombie! You're the one who barged in on me!" Her voice was loud and she was pointing her finger at him, angry as all hell. He just watched her, amused.

"You're the one who took advantage of me!" He growled at that accusation.

"Take advantage?" His voice was seething and low. How _dare _she even try to get away with that one? "Don't try and berate me, girl. I won't hesitate to 'take advantage' of you again if you rub me the wrong way." He saw her quiver in the dark. A weird expression crossed her face then along with a very low noise that rumbled from her throat. He saw the little bumps on her skin rise. Again, she was getting chills.

He paused a moment before quickly approaching her. She squeaked and backed up, near tumbling as she collided with a ratty table. Her eyes shut and her hands came up in defense. She looked pathetic again. He breathed on her and tugged her hands down by her waist. She cracked an eye and watched him.

"You like it when I get angry . . . Don't you?" He questioned her with an air of degradation. He was putting the weird looks she gave him together, mulling them over in his head. She liked it when he lost control, it was what she had wanted this whole time. For him to lose his cool, his composure.

He watched her face turn a rosy red, she pulled that lip of hers into her mouth and sucked. She looked guilty, like she was caught doing something she was ashamed of. Again he saw too much of the child in her. She was ignoring him, trying to get out of his line of questions. With his frustration growing by the second he gave her a hard shake.

"Yes!" She yelled and struggled. "Yes! You fuckin' happy! You gang green zombie bast-!" He gave her another hard shake as she went off her rocker, screaming profanities. Another slam against the table and she was quiet, a look of pain on her face.

"If your trying to convince me to follow you, your doing a very shitty job of it." He mumbled under his breath and released her, stepping back. She braced against the table as he left her off balance.

Charon didn't know what to do then. Before he thought he'd nailed her so good she would have been begging him to follow her, but like a lot of things, she managed to take the fun out of it. Acting like a spoiled brat, demanding this and that from him. Well not anymore, he was free and she was gonna have to try harder than that. With a few deep breaths he watched her calm down.

"You know I can't get there without your help . . . I'm a lousy shot . . ." She said this while straightening her posture, staring at him. _'Here we go . . .'_ He held in his grin.

"Don't you want to come with me anyways . . .? Bumming around the Ninth Circle sounds more interesting to you than 'accompanying' me?" She began to smile, and he hated her. His eyes narrowed to slits as he listened to her.

"Why go back there when you can share a bed with me every night? Figuratively of course.." Even though she sounded crass her face still remained flustered, as well as the top of her chest. How could she sound so evil yet look so innocent? It made him want to take her again, right there, on that unstable table she was leaning so precariously on.

She was right. He gave pause and inhaled deeply. He knew she was good with words and regardless of how weak she could be she at least made up for it by having a sharp tongue. Though now she was using that skill on him, and it was working. He wanted to protect her, fuck her, and follow her even now that his contract was null and void.

"Your going to do something for me . . . Before I take you up on your offer." He spoke with great measure, imagining her on her knees with him in her mouth.

She wavered slightly but remained poised. He only barely noted a mild curiosity behind those eyes. Slowly he reached for his belt buckle and meticulously began unbuckling it. He watched her eyes as he did this, watching her persona change before him. Her mouth parted and her eyes lowered to the junction of his thighs. She knew now what he wanted from her, she must have, and instead of seeing humiliation he saw a coy smile.

She never ceased to amaze him.


	7. Snoozer

Thanks again to Pattyn, Ki, and Ninth Lady for the reviews. Normally if I haven't already, as soon as I see I have three reviews for a chapter, I begin the next one. So much inspiration. Hope you like this one.

* * *

_'Fucki'n hot ass sun...' _the ghoul grumbled while hunched over with his elbows on his knees. The sun with beating down on him, making him feel even more dried out and rough then he already was.

They were actually resting,....in the middle of the capitol wasteland. With nothing around them but open wastes and a few small hills. She had found the oasis, a gathering of bushes and rocks, about an hour ago. Charon couldn't beleive she wanted to take a nap in the middle of the god damn day.

_ 'Unbeleivable..'_

He didn't even bother arguing with her, since he too was vaguely tired. Resting his legs would be a welcome treat. He had not slept more then a few hours since she'd plucked him from the Ninth Circle. The lack of sleep was only now starting to affect him, regardless, it was a slippery slope once the sleep came on, and he didn't want to be dosing when she missed her next shot. He gave out a sigh as he cocked his head to the right, observing the sleeping smoothskin. She was curled up in the limited amount of shade the little oasis had to offer, looking very un-evil. Bitch-like, but not evil.

His eyes shut briefly, but he lifted his head to the sun and forced himself to not let sleep grab hold of him.

"Not going to happen.." his voice was more raspy then normal, so he began a search through her new pack for some water to dampen his throat. No water. He saw however, one Nuka Cola. It was warm but looked more then delectable to his parched taste buds.

_'Oh I'm gonna drink the fuck out of you.'_

With one glance to the smoothskin, just to make sure she was really asleep, he pulled the cola from her pack and snapped it open. He paused for a moment, expecting her to wake up. Wait. Why was he tip toeing around her all of a sudden. A frown found its way to his face then. He began to drink it while staring at her, still waiting for her eyes to crack open and catch him chugging her last cola. Then again, he thought, that might be fun.

While he chugged the last few drops of the sugary liquid he couldn't help letting his eyes trail from her eyes to her lips. He gulped, tasting the sweetness that lingered in his mouth. Her lips were parted and puffy, moving as she breathed rhythmically.

_'Yeah, she looks innocent now..'_ his lips twitched up in a half smirk, remembering what she did with that mouth last week. He felt the muscles in his thighs tense and his grip tighten on the glass bottle. He still held the toothy cap in his other hand, he swirled it with his fingers. He continued to watch her mouth, it closed as she made a little noise and then it parted again as she began to breath softly. Charon would have thought that by now little things like this wouldn't get him so riled up anymore. He was wrong. Despite already having felt two caverns her body had to offer, he still couldn't control himself when he got to staring at a part of her.

Images of her sashaying over to him, dropping down on her knees like she was ready to pray to god. That look she had.

Charon looked around nervously, they had been undisturbed for a little over an hour, she would be waking up soon. He tapped his boot on the ground a few times before standing quickly. He didn't know why he was standing but he was, now he was pacing. He had paced about four times before he stopped himself. Why was he letting this get to him? He grumbled under his breath, besides he could take her when ever he wanted. Regardless of wether she seemed reluctant in the beginning or not. The thought of her waking up to him inside her made him twitch again. He needed to get a fucking hold on himself.

He sneered and threw the empty bottle on the ground, pocketing the cap. Almost with a shaky motion he sat back down on that same hot rock. He let out a loud groan, his leathers felt too tight at that moment.

Earlier that morning he had decided he was going to hold off on taking her, he wanted to give her a little taste of her own medicine. He had started a week ago, in fact. While she was giving him head she paused, begging him to fill her up, the sound of her begging was good and it felt even better when he forced her to finish him without giving her what she wanted. She was gonna have to work for that. He grinned, the sight of her as she took him in and out of her mouth was **more** then pleasant. He could tell she had never done it before then, the way she swallowed what he spilled into her mouth, the look on her face. He wanted to laugh, but he just shook his head letting his grin fall to an amused smile. _'Like a pro though..'_

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, quickly he snapped his head to the 'bitch', she was awake. He witnessed her stretch and yawn, arching her back against a rock and giving him a look of acknowledgment.

"You.." she yawned, oh and how he looked at her mouth now, "...were supposed to wake me up in an hour." He wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, he was watching her lips move as she mouthed the words._ 'Yeah..'_

A bore noise snapped him out of his daze, he looked at her then. She looked annoyed and disheveled.

"Don't bother, your up now." he glared at her as she began dusting herself off, standing now. He too stood as she came up to him.

"Well aren't you a lot of help..." he wasn't even going to mention every fucking bullet he had taken for her since Underworld. He didn't need to, she knew. She gave him a strange look before popping on the sunglasses she stole from a wastelander that morning. He had to admit, she did look stylish. That sick smile she gave him then made him frown, she pointed north west.

"Smith Casey's Garage...thats were the entrance is. At least thats what the holodisk said..." her voice trailed off like she was unsure all of a sudden. Then he saw what she was looking at, right where she was pointing was a deathclaw. It was far off in the distance but he was for certain it saw them. Even to him the sight of the deathclaw make him tense.

He watched her hand shake in his peripherals as his eyes still stared right at the monster. She let out a exacerbated squeal and hurried behind him, more then likely grabbing her weapon. He reached behind him, yanking his shotgun free and cocked it above him. It settled down at his hip casually. He heard her shuffling through her pack for ammo.

"You would be better off throwing some frags at it, your a lousy ass shot.." he grumbled to her as he headed forward, towards the scaly beast. This was gonna hurt. She paused he heard, then a little female noise before he had walked far enough to not hear her at all.

The deathclaw was about 150 yards away, hunched over with its large claws outstretched._ 'Come to papa you bastard.'_ he grinned, teeth baring as he aimed his shotgun. From this distance he managed to get a few splattered shots directly in its torso. If it didn't know he was there, then it did now.

He heard the distinct clatter of a frag, quickly he back up just far enough to see an explosion go off 20 feet from the monster._ 'Terrible either way..'_ Again he aimed and fired two consecutive rounds into the upper chest of the deathclaw. It was no were near finished as it gave a large roar, arching its back and stretching out its arms. Quickly he took wind of his opportunity and shot again and again into its stomach and chest.

It let out a howl of pain as it twitch, another clink of an oncoming frag. This time as he backed off he **barely** avoided the near direct hit she landed on the monster. She had crippled its leg he saw, when the dust cleared he could clearly see a part of its femur bone poking from it's thick scaly flesh. For a moment he was faintly impressed. The deathclaw looked nearly put out, until Charon placed a good shot directly in its face, "Take that you bastard!" then it looked dead.

It collapsed in mid lunge and fell with great force directly to the right of him.

The dust cloud, the dying deathcaw created, began to fade and when it did the smoothskin was standing there, on the other end of the dead creature. She was holding a frag and with it a grin. It was infectious. He held back his own with effort as he began reloading his shotgun and holstered it securely.

"Not too shabby eh?" she sounded cocky already, what irony. He looked at her then over the cliff they had come up on.

He spotted a two car garage station, right there in the middle of nowhere. Then again, everything in the Capitol Wasteland was in the middle of nowhere...

"That must be your garage." he nodded to the east. She went to stand besides him, staring off where he directed. Sure enough, she nodded, looking less confident then before. If she did feel anything genuine, he figured then it was finding her dad.

_'Daddy's girl..'_

* * *

What do you think?


	8. Dweller

Alright, know it look long ( at least by my standards ) but here it is Chapter 8. Thanks for the review Ninth Lady, needed at least one. Enjoy.

* * *

The last few minutes before reaching Smith Casey's was gut wrenching. She didn't pause to take a breath while she rape his ear canal. Speaking of all the great things her dear old dad had done, how she was going to find him, how everyone knew he was going to do something big. Something grant, she would shout. Some of it sounded as if she was only speaking to herself. Only a few statements seemed directed at him, and only because she gave him a glance every now and then did he think that.

She continued to blab on, even while they took that last few steps to the double door garage. He paused and so did she, looking at him directly. Only then did she cease her persistent yammering.

"You gettin' **cold** feet?" she smirked annoyingly, "Big **bad** ol' ghoul **afraid** of a Vault?"

She made a 'snickering' type noise. He had to give it her, the kid had gall. Despite how rough and cold he had been with her, she seemed to hold the idea of _'he wasn't going to leave cause no one can say 'no' to my pussy'_. It was actually entertaining, the way she thought. So, instead of growling at her like he had originally wanted to, he just smirked. She could think what she wanted if it pleased her, but he was gonna just end up taking his frustration out on her in other ways. Ways maybe she hadn't considered when she'd begged him to follow her.

With that little thought in mind he began his way to the door, ahead of her. Walking in front of her was a simple pleasure he'd grown to love.

"I won't even point out the irony of your berating, " he lifted the door up, his muscles bulging as the door clamored up, revealing a surprisingly cold and crisp garage. "...now move that ass inside." He gave her a dark look.

Regardless of her previous stance she looked recessed. She was being dominated by him again and she was trying to pretend she didn't like it. She did, he knew already. His eyes followed her, then followed her curvy backside as she entered the garage. That ass was making his skin crawl. Expertly, he concealed his need and dropped the support of his arm from the door, letting it slam down on the concrete with a loud bang. He managed to catch a look at her as she jumped. His previous smirk widened.

Now they were submerged in darkness. He heard her fumble, then the faint green glow of her Pipboy illuminated the area. Not well, but he could see where things began. His eyes fell on her, her head was whipping from side to side.

"Well...?" he enquired gruffly.

She didn't look at him, instead she began searching. Ignoring him.

He grumbled. The girl was either afraid of him, aroused, or completely ignoring him. Either way it was confusing. His face scrunched together, thinking of all the odd shit she seemed to do. She was either a hellraiser, or a pussy....

_'Pussy...'_

He felt his mouth go dry. That was the only thing keeping him near her. It was turning into a game, at least for him he knew it was. That hot spot she had between those sweet thighs was all he enjoyed about her. The only thing. He reassured himself of that fact as he recalled all the things he hated about her.

While he was making up his one sided check list in his mind a **crash **rang. She cursed and growled, creating quit a ruckus. From her tone of voice he ruled out the possibility of her being seriously injured. Casually he rounded the corner where she was. A toppled metal shelf had fallen. She was pulling a 'Duck and Cover' out from under the rubble, cursing as she went. He listened to her form another string of curse words, cringing as she ripped the edge of the book.

"Fuck!", she yelled so loud it echoed in the small confinements. He was vaguely impressed by the shrill sound. He would have been more so if the sound wasn't also infuriating and childish.

"Do you need to make a scene every where you venture..?" he drawled looking around the room absentmindedly. There had to be some secret shaft somewhere, or a manhole. In the side of his vision he saw her scrunch her face and frown. She look angry but his eyes weren't on her then, instead they traveled over the wall and down to the floor behind her.

_'Bingo'_

There, right behind the little **twit**, was a drop hatch. Exactly what she was looking for he figured.

"Yeah? Well how about you kiss my as-"

"Shut up." he spoke back to her harshly.

She stopped too, which was the funny thing about their 'relationship'. Her posture was leaning as if he had barked at her.

He growled as he stared at her. She was looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Behind...you..." he wanted her to feel stupid, as he spoke to her like she was dumb. She only looked half hurt as she turned around. He wished he could see her face then. He enjoyed one-upping her even in small situations. She seemed to always be trying to turn the tables on him and it never worked. Well...normally never worked. _'Except when she's moaning and quivering.'_

He stood in the archway, watching her fumble with the latch. Eventually she lifted the heavy lid up, a small grunt leaving her as she did. Again, he found himself slightly impressed by her_. 'You hate her, remember.' _He remembered. He glanced at the exposed leg she gave while leaning over to look down the hole. Smooth flesh was like jet to him. Like a large dose of jet. He momentarily closed his eyes, craving to do one of two things. To either fuck her now or kick her down that hole. Maybe her head would crack if she fell hard enough. The violent thought faded into a lustful one. The idea of fucking her over the opening sounded good too.

Her voice drug him from the ghastly ideas. She was staring at him, in close proximity too. He gained his bearings, looking back at her with faked uninterest.

"What are you rambling on about..**now**?" he glared.

She glared right back. "I said you should go first. The radiation could get worse down there, and I don't wanna be the first to find out..." he saw her checking him out, "..besides, not like you could get any more ghoulified, right?" she spoke oddly. Again.

"Yeah? Why should I do what you want? Not like you've kept up with your end of the bargain lately."

He was insulting her and he knew it. Insinuating she was a whore. She scowled. He knew how much she disliked that whore at Megaton. She spoke of her often, referring to her as a 'cunt'. Making her feel like that certain 'cunt' was satisfying for Charon. All to satisfying.

"You make it sound so bad, ya know?" her arms folded, only making her breasts look more appealing to him. He wondered if she knew that. Instead of causing a rebuttal she simply began lowering herself down the open hatch. He couldn't help but grin at her reaction. She was a stubborn 'cunt' too.

* * *

The area was cool and comfortable. Charon was surprised. Never, even in Underworld, had he felt such comfort. The smell of the air was fresh and clear and gave him a little high. She seemed just as thrilled and surprised. Perhaps the Vault she grew up in wasn't as swank as this one. The question he asked himself was...how did something this 'untainted' survive this long. Someone must have been taking good care of the place. Nothing sustained itself this well over such a long and harsh period of time.

She began to move, snapping his attention from the distant slugged door. Her hand motioned for him to follow and follow he did.

The door took no more then the press of a button to open. She stood by the control panel as steam shot through the cracks of the door. It pushed out and rolled off to the side, exposing the inner workings of the Vault. He had never seen a Vault up close, only in magazines before the war. His curiosity peaked.

She was giving him a smug smile, while she accepted a jump suit from an overzealous robot. Again he was cautious of how 'new' the Vault seemed. Maybe it was one of those that just remained unused.

Charon was busy giving the robot the evil eye, only when the bot began to shut off did he turn to the 'bitch'. Despite how he looked then, cold and composed, he was quit shocked to see her naked in the middle of the room. She'd tossed her dirty blue dress off to the side, now putting her feet in the legs of the jumpsuit. Only for an instant was he interested with her dilemma of having no under garments below the suit. She was wiggling the suit up her legs and to her hips, staring at him mischievously as she did. Playing with fire again was she? He growled.

Instead of instilling fear in her, like it should have, she just zipped her suit up half way. The arms of the suit sagged at her hips, the whole upper portion of her body was still bare.

"See something you like?" her voice annoyed him, but as she grabbed her left breast he forgot his aggravation.

The little thin fingers played with a stiff nipple. It coaxed more from him then mild arousal and he accidently let out a low groan. Instantly he regretted it, knowing full well she would take it as a point to her team. Thankfully though, she removed her hands from her breast and finished dressing herself in the jump suit. He felt stupid then, just like she wanted him too. She walked by him while touching the side of his hip, dangerously close to his groin. He saw a small smirk on her lips before she pranced off behind him, going further into the untouched Vault.

She left him there with his cock hard in his pants. He didn't dare look at the noticable bulge between his legs. He **didn't** need a visual reminder while the painful stiffness in his pants was enough.

'_That fuckin' bitch!'_

* * *

What a cock tease...right? What do you think? The tension still there?


	9. Animal

Thanks to Pattyn, Ki, Ninth Lady, and XxCheshireGrinxX for the reviews. Sorry but I won't be updating until after June 3rd. I should have wrote an essay instead of this, but what ya' gonna do...

* * *

It was a strange business.. Being a ghoul. Strange was the nicest way to put it.

Charon absentmindedly thumbed at the tough leathery hide of his back hand. It slide over some smoother flesh like a scab when he rubbed it. It was all quit strange, he wish he'd known more about the human anatomy before the war. Before knowledge became obsolete. For a moment he entertained the thought of the 'bitch's' father knowing more about the human biology. Or.. ghoul biology. It would be quit liberating in a way to know how his 'altered' body functioned, or how it didn't anymore.

He remained seated on a few sturdy crates, his arms on his knees. The hunched over position he was in made him numb at that point.

_'What has it been..five hours now?'_ His spine had not decompressed for at least two of those five hours. The only thing he had been concentrating on was the constant 'hummm' of machinery. As soon as she had climbed into the strange lounge-like apparatus she hadn't moved but a blink. Her eyes would roam in a mere 20-degree rotation. The pupils seemed to enlarge and shrink every now and then, but nothing more.

The monitor illuminated her face, which was blank and unreadable. The soft tendrils of her hair was beginning to plaster to her face though. Perhaps it was hot, or... He made a mental note to check her vitals in a few minutes.

_'She won't be out for awhile..if she ever gets out...that is.' _For a moment he felt a tad worried. It would be a **very** shitty thing to loose her after all this time of not being intimately physical with someone. Someone who still had skin...not to mention someone so tight and smooth. He felt bad about it, but he couldn't help the swell of lust that was starting to form. It seemed like months since he'd last fucked her, but in truth he hadn't even been traveling with her for a month yet.

He knew he was loosing it.

All that self control he found pride in was beginning to melt like hot wax. He could literally feel it withering the more the days went by. He **hated** it.

The pain was dull as he pushed his upper body into a straight position. His spine 'popped' a few times as he began to stand. It felt like his muscles had solidified. Now his whole body felt as stiff as his cock.

_'What a joy' _

Thankfully he only had to walk a few steps before he was at her vitals, they glowed on the computer. He grumbled. The readings were fine it seemed. Though her heart rate was up and didn't show any sign of slowing. Infact, he peered to get a better look...it was...increasing? The smoothskin always had to complicate things. What was he suppose to do?

She looked fine. He turned to her again. She was sweating though. A few trails of wetness ran down her neck, hiding between her breasts. Between her smooth tanned chest...Even with the possibility of her going into cardiac arrest he couldn't help the twitch his dick gave. _'Fuck..mee...'_ He cursed himself as he looked around for a switch. Something to shut it down. He needed to get her the fuck out before the monitoring computer read something like...'abnormal'.

_'Where the fuckin' hell...somewhere..'_ he whipped his head around, looking for some 'off' button that wasn't there. For five minutes he searched, getting more desperate with each glance he gave her. Though.. she looked different, he paused. He didn't know why but he crept closer to the lounger, peering in, trying to get a good view of her through the thick glass. She didn't look **too** terrible...he again searched her features.

The tiniest of smiles was on her lips. Moisture dripped off her forehead down between them. There was no way for him to deny it, she was smirking. The vitals remained high and uneven but she was sure as hell smiling. _'What was she doing in there?' _he was too curious now.

With an uneven gesture he rubbed the back of his scalp, albeit a little confused.

He had too many questions that she probably wouldn't answer even if he found the energy to ask. Showing interest in her would more then likely give her other ideas about him as well. Other ideas that were not true. He continued to remind himself that he only wanted her safe so he could fuck her again.

_'Just getting worked up over some smoothskin pussy, thats all..'_

With a thud he sank back on the floor, leaning against an occupied lounger. Yes, when she was out he would do just **that**. She deserved it anyways for making him panic like this. She deserved everything he was gonna give her when that stupid cocoon opened...**and **she was gonna like it. Not as much as him though, he smirked. Not as much as him. The thought was quit pleasing and it did the work of easing hims mind.

Before he knew it his eyes were closed.

* * *

_Some hours later..._

He awoke to tugging.

_'What?'_

He wasn't even awake yet when a soft noise bounced against his ear drums and suddenly he felt cold. He shivered. He had fallen asleep. _'When did that happen?'_...he moaned when a feeling of dull pleasure eased into his mind. Only then did his eyes crack open, the sight of the previously occupied lounger open, empty. She was not there. His head lulled against the side of the lounger, still in a mild haze when the pleasure hit him again.

Then in an instant he was awake.

She was straddling him, bare ass on his thighs. She was naked, hair still stuck to the sides of her cheeks and forehead, still shimmering with sweat.

_'Its about time she lost it.' _he still registered the mockery of the situation even in his mild shock.

"I should have expected you'd jump me..." he tried to come off as stern as he could manage, though it was feat in itself with how hot her slit was against him.

He was afraid it would have been him to give in to her if she didn't cave in then. Oh, and this was too good. Before he had time to relish his triumph though a hot wet feeling stung at the tip of his dick. He barely registered she was hovering over him. Then as quick as he felt the first touch she was **on** him. His whole girth was surrounded now by her slick tight walls. She made a horridly delightful noise that made his brain fuzz. The sensation was even better then the first time he felt her enveloping his cock.

Her body massaged him each time she lifted her hips and each time she slammed back down. Despite the brain numbing situation he was in, he still managed to wonder where her father was in all this. _'Screw it..'_ He didn't care. The man obviously wasn't there now and that was a damn good thing.

Her pace started slow and shaky. Her thighs quivered. Slowly he traced her wet thighs, now gripping the slick skin, holding her in place for the moment. She jerked to move above him but he was relentless. He stilled her, relishing in the feel of how warm and constricting she was.

"Oh god, Charon... what are you doing!" she seemed to whine, trying desperately to move against his grip.

'_She thought she could call the shots..?'_ He growled at her, pulling her body up and pulling his hips back to then slam into her quickly. She whimpered loudly, making noises of pain and pleasure. He wouldn't let her feel **that** good without a little pain. She needed a reminder every now and then, or else he figured she'd get spoiled. Her face scrunched as her hips ground down on him.

Even though he enjoyed the small torture he too needed more then the constant tight heat she gave. He could feel his heart beat in his cock as it swelled inside her. He loosened the tension in his arms, keeping grip of her but allowing her to ride him.

As soon as he loosed the slack she came to life. Lifting and slamming on his 'meat'. He didn't let her relish in the groans that he was trying to supress. Though, they may have gone unheard with the way she was gasping and moaning. She felt **too** sweet, thrusting up and down on him like this. His eyes rolled into the back of his head while his knees lifted slightly, giving her more support as she worked on him. He choked out a groan, unable to hold that one back when her hips shifted, finding a new way to elicit delight from him. She was good. He didn't need to do anything for her to keep going the way she was, but he couldn't just lay back and enjoy himself.

_'That would be rude.'_

He smirked and gaving her a **hard** thrust as she slammed back down on him. She let out a cry with that. He watched her in her lewd position as she leaned back on his bent knees. Charon gave another thrust, he watched her. She was watching too, but not him, no...she was watching his dick dissapear inside of her. Over and over again as she built up even more of a sweat.

All of a sudden she turned frenzy. Making the room flood with loud sounds of sex. Slapping skin, moans and heavy breaths was all that echoed.

For a moment Charon thought of a wild animal. Her teeth partly clenched beneath her parted lips, breasts bobbed with the movements she gave. He witnessed her eyes darken, become heavy as she ran her gaze up his body, following the contours of his semi-bare chest all the way to his face.

He didn't cease meeting her thrusts as she stared at him. Fucking him and staring right at him. In that moment the pleasure he felt increased ten-fold. He began to feel his building release. It wasn't even just the fucking, it was the **look**. He was managing to maintain control until she locked eyes with him. It seemed it was the same for her as she began shaking on him, still trying to fuck him.

He gasped, shamefully. Her orgasm caused her flesh to tighten around him, so hard that for a moment he felt panic. The act literally squeezed his climax from him.

Quickly he grabbed the area of her shoulder near her neck, digging in as he pushed her body farther down on him, bruising her cervix at that same time. He shot deep within her, so much that before he finished it was already leaking out of her. He didn't pay attention to her sound of ecstasy as her lower body twitch on and around him. His breath came out harsh and raged, like he had exerted to much energy. Truth be told, he didn't do much of anything. _'The 'bitc-...the smoothskin..'_ He subconsciously corrected himself, _'had done all the fuckin' this time.',_ and damn was she proving to be good at it.

She didn't move, even as he felt himself grow soft she just eased into him, looking more then satisfied.

"I'm...not gonna apologize for waking you up..." she spoke breathlessly. He wasn't really paying attention to her. He had just cum harder then he ever had. Maybe, only when he was an adolesent did he manage to shoot such a large load.

Absentmindedly he grabbed one of her breasts, tracing circles around her nipple with his thumb. In the distant 'hum' of post-orgasmic bliss he heard her moan. How did a smoothskin like her find pleasure in fucking someone like him? _'Uh..doesn't matter..'_ He ignored the breif moment of insecurity as he pinched the rosy bud.

"Ow!"

She winced at him but he heard the moan in her voice. It was no use, the way she continued to cover up her arousal. Perhaps, he thought, she was doing it to make herself feel something. Feel less shitty about her violent kinks? He shrugged mentally, he didn't care. Not when he was beginning to grow hard inside of her again while playing with her heavy breasts.

"Why don't you save those apologies for when bleeding in a **gutter**.." He grunted and gave her a thrust. The look of insult she had quickly diminished as she cooed with anticipation. He smirked, she seemed up for another go. He for sure was, that was until she did something very stupid.

She let out a slick moan as she leaned in, her lips coving his. She kissed him. Why the idea of her touching his lips with her own was more outrageous then her blowing him he had no idea. Though it was disturbing just the same. She dipped her tongue in his mouth. When had he opened his mouth?

_'What an idiot...' _against his better judgment he closed his eyes, letting her wrap her hands around the back of his neck and head.

She was fucking kissing him..and he couldn't help but respond.

_'Dammit all to hell..'_

* * *

Well? Was it worth me neglecting school?


	10. Shepherd

Her tongue pushed deep into his mouth, twirling and in turn making crude slippery noises. It'd been too long since someone had kissed him and he couldn't help respond. She went right back to being a bitch in his eyes the moment a indulgent moan pushed its way into his mouth from hers. He had to end it right here and now.

_'Even if it she is working that tongue inside like she fuckin' owns me still.' _

He growled against her wet lips and shoved her off his lap roughly. It felt good to finally get her off, to see that surprised - then pissed off look on her face as her naked body bounced. He nearly grinned..

"Ugh..fuck you too Charon! See if I swap spit with you again..." She knew the drill...maybe she'd even expected him to push her away - would explain how quick she was to retort. Tempting little...little..wait where the fuck was her Dad? As if by a bolt of electricity he remembered briefly wondering where the fuck the father figure was. Why hadn't he been so concerned about it before. _'Right...she was fucking me... '_ This time he did grin, almost again forgetting to worry about the father situation when fresh memories of the kid gyrating on top him flooded back.

He looked around him, forgetting she was still spread eagle on the floor in front of him. The Dad had to be somewhere. As he pressed his back to the pod, zipped up his leather and started to stand he heard her whisper some insult to him. She wasn't worth the time at the moment. He had other things to worry about - like possibly having a girl's father see her fuckin a ghoul like an unleashed Yoa Gui.

"Where is he?" He didn't bother looking at her as he posed his question, just started eyeing the dark corners and the upper railings along the walls. Somewhere in his buzzing brain he knew the guy wasn't around. The girl wouldn't fuck with her Pops around. _'Would she?'_ No, that was even beyond her...although judging by the other stuff he'd witness her do, it wasn't far off.

"Ha!...He left before I jumped your bones, if thats what your bitchin' about.." Without looking at her he knew without a doubt she was crossing her arms under those bountiful breasts of hers and giving him a narrowed down look of spite. Indeed, when he regretfully cast her a glance - she was in that exact position, except she'd managed to put on those little shorts at some point.

"Was that not what we came here to do?" He gave her that glare back at a worse level. "...find him?"

He eyed her - running the tips of her toes against the cold metal as she looked off to the side with a wayward glance. Patience wasn't one of his virtues...not with her anyways. _'Come on just spit it out...'_

"We can always meet him back at Rivet City later...besides...I needed some relief after being in that stupid pod for so long." She looked a little odd for a moment, like she'd just done something tiring. In a second the look was gone however and she cast him a lopsided mirthful smile. In the light her lips still looked shiny from their sloppy lip locking. Thankfully the sight didn't leave him weakening at the seams - instead he grunted and become tightening one of his loose belts back in place.

He heard her coo at him as he shifted his leathers around his hips; easing the strain on a growing bulge that she no doubt was remarking on. _'Ignore her, ignore her and get the fuck out of here...get..the..fuck..out of here...'_

"Lets get the fuck out of here." For a moment he stood still, fingers still wedge between his belts and leather as his mind started to realize he wasn't the one that said it. She was waltzing past him, hips swaying like usual as he gawked at the back of her. She'd read his mind. No way to tip-toe around the fact that the bitch had took the words right out of his fucking mouth. She worked those thin little fingers inside the lobes of his brain and just found out every little thing there was to know. _'No of course not, but what the fuck?'_

He only had a few moments to fume and worry before her rear-end disappeared around a corner - and he was left to pick up the pace. He tried his hardest to tell himself she was some kind of mind-freak, the other assumption wasn't good. The idea that some part of her thought like he did, or that some part of him thought like she did was starting to make him queasy in the worst possible way. _'Bitch..'_

* * *

Outside the wind was hard and fast; the moon was large and the stars bright. It had been awhile since he'd taken the pleasure to just stare up at the sky; looking at it just for the sake of looking. The sound of the girl's crunching steps signaled besides him and her form crept up out the side of his vision. She stood off a few feet from him, flicking the horrid green light on at her wrist. When he'd been traveling with a previous employer he'd learned to navigate by the stars, though it must have been almost a decade ago since he barely could tell which way was north and which was south.

_'Been in that bar way too long...'_

The smoothskin saddled up beside him, looking at him it seemed before following his gaze up at the sky. He could see her range of facial expression out the corner of his eye. At first she looked confused, then enlightened and comforted...then a small look of fear ran across those features and he found himself looking straight at her. _'She really is a devil wearing the face of an innocent little girl..'_

He found that he could still hate her without denying how pretty she was - with those small puffy lips and big wide eyes. With a little grumble he tore his eyes away before she turned her gaze to him. The last thing he wanted was for her to get the even more falsely confident from his constant staring…a little look at her could go along way for her ego it seemed.

For a few seconds they stood there, together with the wind flapping about the girl's hair and what was left of his. It was warm but the breeze was cooling. For a little while the wasteland seemed calm and peaceful. It was nice.

"I have a buddy to see in Megaton...", she lingered on as if she was about to say more but stopped. He didn't turn to her, just gave her a sideways glance. As long as she kept doing what she'd just done down in that vault - minus the spit swapping - he was game. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in that shit hole. _'Wonder if that bombs gone off yet…'_

He thinned his lips out further, gazing along the mountain ranges in the distance and the blowing sand kicking up around them. Some kind of itch started inside his head, like he was suppose to remember something about the place…_'..someone..?'_

He grunted but after a few moments of silence, and the lingering gaze of the smoothskin he agreed half-heartedly.

"Fine."

* * *

It took no more than a few taps and 'beeps' of that stupid contraption around her wrist until they were both before Megaton; a garbage heap calling itself a colony. The transportation left him a little tingly in his finger tips, something he never liked. She, on the other hand, was already sprinting to the scissor shut gates, waiting impaciently for them to open. The night was old now, the stars were brighter and the air colder. It could have been a few hours till sunrise...maybe. The mountains behind him whistled against the wind and he found himself staring back at the gates as they started to quiver.

It looked differant than he remembered, though the robot on the left was at least a familiar sight. It even said the same shit...

The makeshift gates lifted out of the soft sandy bottom and eased up with a loud grating sound. His eyes followed the lifting sheets of metal up to a perch at the top where a gun was pointed at him. A ugly smoothskin was aiming a scoped rifle right between his eyes - he knew. _'Make sure to hit them in the head..right?'_

It was the girl that signaled for the man to lower his weapon. She called up with a fake smile. He was with her, she said. More like she was with him, what with the way she managed to get around before him. The way she made it seem like she was his caretaker was almost too much to stay silent over. It felt like his pride was dwindling as the guard bore down on him with a makeshift of pity and disgust.

Regardless he followed after her, giving the guard a small sneer as they entered the thick bile-like smell of Megaton. _'This place smells worse than me...'_

"Come on hot-cakes, put on that winning smile for me." She mocked him, seeing the disgusted look on his face no doubt. He just gave her that look instead of giving it to the countless eye-sores around them. She didn't seem all that perturbed though, just gave him a toothy smile and continued up and around a couple ramps. It almost seemed that, as they walked to what ever destinated she was directing them to, that she actually enjoyed the stares they got from the residents - especially the one from some bald red-faced cocksucker. He immediatly disliked the man more than the rest. The man looked like an ex-raider...one that maybe enjoyed raping more than killing. The guy had his mouth open like a dead fish, looking back from the girl to him with an incredulous look. The man was giving him an easy place to stick his shotgun if the moment presented itself, that was for sure.

Soon, they passed him and suddently the girl was shoulder to shoulder; more like shoulder to elbow in her case. Then with the bald ass still looking, he was sure, he felt a slight friction against his rear. She grabbed at his ass as they walked up a especially unstable ramp. He tensed and she just squeezed a little harder until he jerked back from her. _'Really? Does she need me to stick her one with him watching too?'_ He growled but she lingered against him as if it was some game they always played. An amused sound came out of her throat as she glanced over her shoulder for a second longer than was necessary. _'The bitch..' _He figured 'baldy' was thinkin' the same thing_._

She was either using him, or was proud in a very, very fucked up way - or perhaps the ass had given her trouble before and this was a good way to get him off her back - or...a good way to get the ass to make a scene later. The earlier made more sense...

She, if anything, was the type of girl to stir up unnecessary trouble. She also showed a pattern of getting him riled up for her own amusement and...pleasure. It was a bad habit, fucking around with her after she'd been the one to get him agitated. It was like rewarding her for her bad behavior. She needed a dick; his dick shoved in her mouth again...though he remembered her liking that more than he thought she would..

Instead of grabbing his wrist like he saw her attempt to do at first, she meerly stopped and motioned him after her into a particulary familiar establishment. She held the door open, staring back at him. He just stopped. The sign hung above the door like he remembered. Suddenly a wave of discomfort, humiliation and pain flooded back at him. Why, for all that was solid and sure in the wastes, would she bring him to this fucking bar.

_'This fucking bar!'_

She looked up at him with an arched brow and a turned down mouth. He knew she wasn't stupid, in fact maybe too smart. She knew he wasn't feeling right, and maybe that was why she put on a soft smile and did her best to pretend nice so he'd follow behind her without hassle.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink."

"Yeah..", he grated it out menicingly. She looked like she liked it too. _'Weird girl..'_

So with a lingering grumble, and some light fingers on his wrist he followed her into the bright lights of the saloon - ready to exact his revenge.

* * *

So, it has been awhile since I've updated this. Got a few reviews wanting this to continue and who am I to deny? Plus I really did enjoy writing this one. Sorry if it isn't flowing right, I'll get the hand of it after awhile. I've got a direction I'm ready to take with this story and it might go on for awhile. I definetly want to drag Charon along with the vaultie to save Vault 101 and deal with some Butch competition and a few other fun scenarios.

(If anyone has any other ideas for this, sling them my way. The dynamic between the both of these guys is fun to try and pull off.)


	11. Catalyst

Inside, the bar smelt even worse than he remembered; a mixture of piss and stale beer. The bright sick looking lights were nearly blinding in comparison to the dark outside. Immediately he was regretting following her in here. He had to wince to see the smoothskin in front of him, proudly waltzing over to the bar. _'As if she needed to act any more egotistical..'_ She push up against the bar, arms spread and hands gripping the molded wood. It was almost ridiculous.

It took him the time to look away from her ass, up the curve of her back and over her shoulder to see a….ghoul? She was perking up for another ghoul? _'Are you serious..?'_ A bubbling anger spewed inside him; a jealous rage at the sight of the smoothskin arching forward to look at a nervous befuddled ghoul. The target of his benevolence in question had stopped in mid-drying of some cracked cup. Milky eyes, similar to his own, looked from the girl back to him. They made eye contact. In that moment he could see the hope this guy had for his smoothskin…_'not gonna fucking happen buddy..'_

He had to admit, it was enjoyable seeing the level of shock and fear twitching in the ghoul's eyes - yet when the girl turned her head to the side, smiled back at him, and then went back to talking to the decomposing bartender...he was pissed again. She, like always was making this into some battle of the wits game. He always told himself he wasn't going to lose these games, but…she was a crafty little bitch – besides, even when he did lose to her brains he always won with a good orgasm. _'Can't complain about that..'_

He stepped forward, slow and sure up behind her, making sure she could feel his heat up against her backside; it wasn't something he would have done if there was no one but himself, the girl and this...other ghoul in sight. Where ever Moriarty was, it wasn't here.

The previous rage began to simmer as he heard her talking about the very subject of how she ran into him. How she found herself in Underworld, obtaining his contract through her 'charms'…..as she put it. He nearly smirked when she skimped over the part of him screwing her into the floor of that filthy bathroom; of him busting up her knees as he mounted her like a bitch in heat - instead she said she'd freed him of his contract, and he was so thankful that he offered to keep her safe for awhile longer. _'How sweet..'_

"Isn't that right Charon?"

She looked sideways at him, keeping her look away from the other ghoul, whom he'd now found out was named Gob. She narrowed her eyes down at him. _'What a sight..' _She gave him a look that was just daring for his to disagree.

He wasn't going to humor her, so he just shrugged. The ghoul known as Gob wasn't stupid though, he knew something was being kept a secret and it looked like he didn't want to know either, judging by the displeased look on his face. He knew the ghoul had the sweets for his smoothskin. He didn't know whether to feel cocky at the fact that he was fucking her, and not him – or angry that the ghoul wasn't even bothering to cover up his love-sick look.

The smoothskin scoffed, but turned back to the ghoulish bartender with what he guessed was a charming smile - since Gob smiled like one would if they were pleasently drunk.

Over the next few minutes she'd ordered him a drink. It still sat on the bar, untouched, next to two of her empty glasses. She was milking her third and relaying tales of her journey to Gob, embellishing them and taking credit for a lot that he himself had done with no help from her at all. In the next couple minutes he finally took a seat beside her, managing to tune out her slurring speech and turn away from the dopey looks, gracing Gob's rotten mug. For a ghoul the bastard didn't look half bad….unfortunatly.

He finally started at his drink, downing it quick and harsh. It didn't burn as much as he'd liked - yet it started to take the edge off. The bar was quiet, aside from her yammering. The lights were still bright and every now and then the bar vibrated and thumped. It felt very unstable, but then again..._' it's been here this long.'_

One more drink later and the girl was tapping him on the arm. He ignored it at first but then she pinched him. Fucking pinched him. A low growl left his throat as he turned a sharp glare in her general direction. He was still annoyed that she'd been ignoring him this whole time. She didn't look perturbed though, the opposite in fact. She was smiling; red cheeks and glassy eyes, along with this silly 'come hither' look.

With a quick peek to see that Gob had his back turned, cleaning or something, she slid that hand down on top his thigh. It was hard to imagine sometimes, the things she attempted to do, even more so the things she actually pulled off. Was this another play at getting him all riled up so he'd pound her against the wall later? - another game to get him to bend her over some unstable object so he could get at her from behind? When was she going to realize she didn't need to play a game of him, all she needed to do was say she needed a good fucking. It would take just a few words and he'd find a comfortable spot right between her legs. Though, when he though about it, she was all about the chase.

That hand got closer and closer to his groin, squeezing at the tough leather until Gob began to turn around. He watched her, vaguely amused, as she straightened up; both hands on the bar besides her drink, looking a little caught of guard.

"So where is 'you know who'?", she started to question the other ghoul; a little shake still in her voice.

The Gob fellow seemed a little put off by her question, almost sulking-like he answered, "Upstairs...with Nova."

"Ahh, gotcha.", she didn't seem the least bit empathetic.

He ignored the two of them, finding it better to just let the ghoul fill up his drink again as they both talked about some whore. Again he downed the...scotch? whiskey? hell, it was so shitty he couldn't tell what it was. _'Piss is what it is..'_

Just as he was starting to relax he saw the girl reach out and touch someone that wasn't him. With the same hand she'd started fondling him with earlier; she used it to graze the back of the soon-to-be-dead ghoul's hand. In the few seconds that she was touching dead-Gob his blood pressure soared. His already red-bitten fingers clenched the glass in his grasp. His other hand started balling into a tight fist. His thighs tensed and his teeth crunched together. She wasn't stupid, she knew what that would do to him...

Something shattered as his anger tripled when her thumb started to rub at a patch of skin on the dead-Gob's hand. A wet warmth flooded one of his hands and a few startled gasps sounded off around him.

"Fuck...Charon..?" Fayned concern, that's all her voice sounded like. He growled, deep in his throat as his hand started to burn. Only then did he realize he'd smashed the glass in his rage. He thought about getting up and leaving, but he didn't want to run like a bitch...like the 'bitch' that was already cleaning up the glass before him. He thought of grabbing her hair for a second and slamming her head against the bar….

The dead-Gob was staring, looking with a mixture of fear and pity - he'd already backed up a few feet at his outburst.

"You'd better go smoothskin, before Moriarty comes back down, you know…You know how he hates us..ghouls.", Gob murmured, low and as steady as he could.

Charon growled again, standing up and knocking the bar stool down in the process. He ignored the girls whine as he snatched at her arm and drug her out the bar with him, leaving behind something that crossed between embarrassment and the want to kill. It was stupid to get all worked up like that over the 'bitch', but the thought of her dicking around with someone other than him made his blood boil - especially another ghoul. He had to know if she'd fucked him. _'No..yes...shit, no...fuck!' _She hadn't fucked him, he saw it in Gob's face. Sure he'd wanted to, but he hadn't gotten the chance to yet, he could tell.

The cool near morning air simmered his rage, but the little tugs the smoothskin was giving him started to oppose any thought of calmness.

"You want me act. Then I'm acting..." The words felt sick, even to him. He was gonna do something evil, something maybe she'd even hate him for - yet the idea of it thrilled him. She tugged against him again and whispered some kind of foul mouthed threat against him. He swore he could taste the alcohol on her...maybe she was drunk enough that she'd forget this when she woke up...

He dragged her, around the metal building, and down a dirt path. He yanked her around another corner as she struggled against him, making little annoyed grunting sounds as he found a dark secluded area right behind some poor fucker's house. She started to make a sound like she was going to say something until he slammed her against the metal wall - it reverberated a little and he wince, almost afraid of someone finding them...doing this, or more like him doing this to her.

It was dangerous but he melded against her, hearing the annoyed sounds turn husky and anticipated as he grabbed at her hips. She mewled softly, drunk out of her mind still he knew. Her breath smelt stale, but he bit at her lips anyways – beside, it wasn't like he smelt great either.

Quickly, while she was distracted he shoved her down, making her buckle down on her knees with a grunt. Her hands grabbed at his hips for balanced and he smirked, finally getting into this dirty idea of his. She looked confused; drunkenly confused before he ran his fingers through her hair and yanked her head back while he started undoing the buckles on his leathers. The zipper went down next and before he could shove himself in her mouth she was already sucking him into the back of her throat. A foul, disgusting grunt left him as she gave him a powerful long suck. _'So much for forcing herah...shit!'_

He stifled a groan as she went all out against him. He had to remember to get some booze in her more often. This was even better than the first time she'd done it – much rougher and desperate. So, with both hands now buried in her hair he bucked deep inside her throat, keeping an eye out for anyone that might have been curious about the sounds they were making - even if he was to not make a single sound, she was still making as much slurping noises and moans for the both of them. _'She's never quiet...'_

His head started swimming, the alcohol adding to the pleasure that started spiking up his torso and down his legs. She was good - or it'd been so long since he'd had anyone else do this for him. He choked out a pitiful moan, almost cumming then when one of her hands started rubbing at the base of him.

"Fuck.."

He felt her smile as she worked back and forth, pleased with her self it seemed. He didn't care anymore. He had ideas of brutality, malice and anything but mercy until, like always, she turned the tables on him. Why did he always end up like this? Again he held in a groan as she started to fondle another part of his anatomy. _'Shit...shit..shit...'_

Somewhere along the way his back hit the wall, and one of his hands found the cold metal behind him, bracing against it as she increased her already mind numbing pace. She managed, somehow to turn their positions around – now he was the one against a wall at her mercy. He stiffened, arching into her as her hands ran up his hips to tease the muscles under his leather jacket. She was way to fucking into this, and to hell with caring about trying to punish her; to hell with taking his anger out on her. He needed this, and this is why he needed her.

With a muted roar he came quickly, bucking into her mouth and pinning her there as he spilled down her throat. She gagged and he felt it. A few strands of her hair came loose in his fingers as he tugged, feeling the sharp euphoria already start to dwindle.

'Oh..yeah..'

He twitched a few times, feeling her work her throat against him, swallowing even if she hadn't wanted to. He remembered the first time she'd blown him. She'd spat it out like it was acid, not that he could blame her - but feeling her swallowing it, and knowing she had, just made it that much more hot.

He stroked her hair as he loosened his grip on her. She jerked back, but, oddly enough, started to lick him. It was pleasant, too nice for him to just zip up his pants for fear of someone peeping in. He knew he had heard some foot steps a few seconds ago, but with how she was cleaning him up, he couldn't be bothered to stop her. It was kind of sick, but he almost wanted someone to come along and see this cute little fresh-faced girl sucking a dirty giant ghoul like him; to see the horror on there faces at the sight of them. He grinned, watching her little pink tongue lapping at the sides of his rough cock.

He could have let her continue, but letting her do so may have let her think this was all about her. If he ripped her away and acted as if she'd done nothing special then he could call this little fiasco a point for his team. He smirked, liking that idea more, even though she'd already started to suck on the head on him again.

The look on her face was priceless, when he yanked her head back and pushed her on the back of her thighs. Her head had turned to the side, spilling her hair in her face as he started to do up his pants. Her eyes were blazing and her shiny wet mouth was thinned in a sneer. She didn't say anything, but he knew she wanted to. He just smiled, a sick-evil smile, one that she'd give him plenty of times.

He zipped up his pants slowly, stuffing his still hard dick inside before standing up straight and offering her a hand up. She took it, to his mild surprise and got up to her feet, looking up at him with a sour expression. For a brief second he wondered how he had put up with her for some long like this, then he felt his dick twitch and remembered why - maybe that was how she felt. She didn't come off as a girl that was easily pleased...and maybe a filthy ghoul like him was the only one that could do it?

After a few seconds the shadow of a man walked by, paused and continued down some rickety ramp. They both stood there, behind some old piece of shit house until the footsteps dwindled down into nothing. He heard her sigh but kept his gaze on the section of pathway he could see - until a small hand pressed against his chest.

"You gonna do that every time you wanna cut my head off?"

He arched a brow ridge at her, looking down at the face looking up at his, then at the hand splayed against his chest.

"You have a better idea?"

He watched her grin; blush and grin. He didn't think he'd ever understand her...

He heard her murmur something but just gestured to the pathway, which he in turn, followed - like he always did. He felt lazy now, almost lethargic as the weight of his post orgasm set in. The pleasure still lingered in his limbs as he walked behind her, garnering a few mirthful looks from some early morning citizens. It was still dark, but off out the corner of his eye he could see the sky starting to lighten with the rising sun. It would be awhile until it was bright outside, but he guessed she was ready to sleep. He hadn't seen her check out since at least fifteen hours before she found herself in that tranquility lounger in that vault.

She stopped in front of a rickety looking house, the front porch area in itself looked off by at least twenty degrees. He walked up the ramp a few feet behind her and gave the rest of the town a quick once over. Up on one of the balconies was that bald fuck from earlier. He narrowed his eyes, getting a better look as the bastard leaned over a railing with a bottle on one hand. He'd been the one to walk by after the girl had finished him off…

Without thinking a prickish grin found its way on his face, one that was full of bravado and pride. It must hurt to have a girl reject you for a ghoul, if you were some down and out ex-raider.

He watched the bald dick take a swig off his bottle of booze and sneer, then like a beaten dog walk off. It was good, to see the man scamper off to find pleasure in either another bottle or that whore they were talking about in the saloon, especially when a small hand fisted in his leathers and impatiently pulled him inside the dark house.

_'I've got a smoothskin to find my pleasure in..'_

* * *

Please make sure to review if ya got the time. I think I want some jealous Jericho in here, not sure though - or should I wait until they team up with Butch? Anyways, hope you liked this one. Think I'm getting back in the hang of writing from Charon's pov again. It's fun. : )


	12. Destroyer

He was sore; sore and tired. Sleeping here on the floor, only a foot below the 'bitch' was at first a bit more droll than annoying. If anything he'd felt smugger when she'd pushed him out of bed for keeping her up with what he told her and himself was male-prowess. Something about that look the 'bald fuck' gave him early this morning had put him out to prove a point; and prove it he did - so much so that he'd had to pushed some of the bed sheets in her mouth at one point, just to shut her up. He was proving a point to himself and her after all, not the whole fuckin' populace.

_'Scream..scream, scream, all she ever does..'_

The hard filthy floor was even more uncomfortable than sleeping on the rocks in the wasteland. He shut his eyes, finally feeling the lethargy leave him; replaced with a familiar clear upper. He was awake now - no going back to sleep and now he had nothing to do, unless he wanted to try a hand at fucking with her again. _'Doubt she'd go for that again…'_

With a heave and a few cracks of his joints he towered over the bed and the conked out vault girl, reading the bright LED lights on her arm-contraption. It was a few minutes till ten in the morning, and knowing her ability to sleep he could expect to be waiting around for a few more hours...at least….if he was lucky. _'Should've let me finish you off another time...cocktease..'_

He gave her one last sullen look before turning on his heel with a grumble and stomping down the stairs, not caring if he was obnoxiously noisy. She could sleep through it anyways..._'bitch'_

It was hotter down stairs; the air feeling near smoldering even in his under shirt and pants. With some scratchy fingers he plucked at his thin black shirt, puffing some air under the tight material as he sank down on her dilapidated couch. His shotgun bounced next to him, where he left it last night before chasing the girl upstairs. He smirked, remembering the little fake sequels she gave when he bolt up to catch her.

_'Don't think about it...just find something else to do, something difficult…something distracting….'_

He needed to get out of this shit-hole soon. Being around her in the company of other smoothskins was taking its toll on him. He much preferred fucking her in between watching her beat the shit out of things; not touching other shuffler's hands or attracting unwanted attention from old ex-raiders.

As he mentally calculated all the reasons why this little hell-hole was even worse than the corner Azrukhal stuck him in, he started running his fingers over the warm weathered metal of his shotgun- tracing the dents and scratches along the barrel, all the way along to the stock-hilt. At least his shotgun was constant; reliable. The gun in his hands only changed when he wanted it to...or at least he knew why and how if it did change. The 'bitch' on the other hand slipped from emotion to emotion, persona to persona at a whim.

Without really thinking he began to dismantle the old weapon, getting back into the calming habit of cleaning it. Normally, before the girl, it didn't see much use. He used his hands normally back at the Ninth Circle, not 'normally' having to pull a gun on anyone - no one had the balls to make 'that' big of scene.

It was good and bad that he'd had to use it so often. On the up side, he holey enjoyed firing it, the down side was it was an old-bird; seen too much action. The grit inside was already spilling over his thighs when he unclicked the port from the magazine.

"Sorry baby..", he shook out the sand and fingered along the inside of the barrel, thinking back to the look the 'bald fuck' had given him. Did the shit for brains really think he could pull that with him? Even if he was a ghoul, he was at least a foot taller than the spit-fuck.

Raiders always got on his nerves, such terrible shots that they had to attack in groups to take even one person down. He'd had some good times in the old days, pulling the trigger in some of their stomachs. A particularly good memory emerged and he sat back a moment, visualizing it to its fullest. The heat of the room added to the vividness…

_…..coming around a corner in an over-run gore house - six raiders down behind him and two left. The employer was waiting outside, impatient fuck. He slid against a wall, keeping to the shadows, when a small male whimper signaled down the hallway to his right. It was like clockwork; turning, shooting - blood. Then the bullet from the last one standing struck against his neck, fueling the adrenaline in his veins with a hard pain. The last one made a similar whimper his dead buddy coughed out, after the chamber in his pistol clicked empty in his face. The sound close enough to his warped nose that his ears rung. The lips on his face stretched and ripped, grinning like a zombie out for brains before he shoved his hot shotgun into the man's belly, breaking the skin and firing - ripping out chunks and spewing them along the walls. A thump of fleshy noise later and the room was clear; order complete…_

Slowly, with the sound of bare feet hitting the steps behind him he cracked his eyes open, body still buzzing with the flashback. He felt blood-hungry, but let it pass as the steps grew closer and the presence behind him stopped. _'Perfect timing..'_ He had a hard-on, but not from thoughts of her for once - so he arched forward, knowing if she saw the bulge she'd smugly think it was due to her.

"What are you up for?", her voice was rude; tired.

"What are 'you' up for?", he repeated, sitting back farther against the couch and resuming the intimate task with his gun.

He didn't hear anything out of her so he just stared through the barrel in his fingers and puffed some air threw it casually. She passed by in front of him, marring the image of the shelves before him. A depression in the couch caused him to sink to the right as she sat down by him. He grumbled and shifted away from her, adjusting himself before going back to inspecting the barrel. Still she didn't say anything, but he could feel her eyes all over him, burning him like harsh rays.

_'Don't look at her. She wants you to look at her…..don't give her the satisfaction.'_

To be annoyed by her now would be giving into her...so he just continued to ignore her, thinking about what they'd be doing tonight. Hopefully they would be leaving, heading anywhere, as long as it was away from here. Another sink in the couch occurred and he fought the urge to look over at her. Her breathing came out in short little mewlings before she went quiet. A few minutes went by and she hadn't moved. His shotgun lay scattered in parts along his left and over his thighs as he finished picking at some crusty rust along the trigger. He had to look. _'damn you...you just can't give it up...'_

He didn't turn his head at first, just pushed his eyes against the side of his sockets as far as he could without pulling the vessels behind his bulbs. She was sleeping, leaning her side against the back of the couch with her head lolled against the rim of the back. Her little mouth hung open, a shiny trace of drool along the side of her mouth. She didn't look like a 'bitch' now. Before, when he'd stopped thinking of her in a negative light he'd been confused - now he was just angry. The fact that she had the ability to change his views on her at a whim was absurd...

His head turned, staring at her more directly as he leaned back on the couch, closer to her. She was evil, nasty for fucking him and even a little pathetic, but he realized then - as he pushed an arm up over the couch and around her head to pull at a few strands of hair - that he'd hate her more if she'd been perfect. If she'd been sweet, fear-less and a self-respecting smoothskin he'd despised her; loathed her, even more than he did now. She was marred on the inside, while he was marred on the outside - and that almost made them the same.

The next few minutes, he paused and really looked at her. Ignored her inner flaws, her physical attributes and just watched her as she slept and breathed. Suddenly he froze, a thumb leaning over one curved eyebrow. She looked like someone..._'She looks like….her.'_ The saliva in his mouth dried up instantly and his gut felt sore, as if someone had opened up a fresh wound. It wasn't the hair, definitely not, but it was the way she looked when she was asleep; the way she looked when she wasn't putting on a front...or maybe he was giving her too much credit, and she just was normally a bitch.

Still, his thumb ran along the fine hairs of that brow and slipped up into some loose hair covering her forehead. She twitched under his touch but didn't do more than move her lips before going still again. She reminded him of the women he'd been infatuated with before the bombs fell…but maybe he was just sleep-deprived…

_'This is stupid, you need sleep, you're hallucinating...'_

He frowned and kept his hand on her as he stared down at the shotgun on his lap. With his other hand he ran a thumb over the metal in conjunction with running the other in her hair. She was soft and he...he was hard, but inside they were both hard. In defeat, mentally and physically he let his head fall back over the edge of the couch; hand still buried on the top of her head. Slowly he pulled her head against the side of his chest, feeling her awaken slowly as he closed his eyes. _'She can squirm all she wants...she not going anywhere...'_

To his surprise, she didn't move away, but pushed up closer. He felt a tightness around his chest and realized she was wrapping her arms around him. The grip around him loosened after a few moments but stayed and a hot moist sensation started against his side as she started to breath in and against him. It felt nice...

_'It is nice...'_

He had an itch to spoil this; to push her off him and go upstairs to steal the bed before she could make a scene, but it started to fade when her nose nuzzled against the muscles that started his right pectoral. Too soon it seemed she stilled and fell asleep. He stayed awake a little longer, eyes still shut - actually enjoying the feel of her against him in a none-sexual way. Just the feeling of her smooth, delicate form huddled up against him was in its own way, oddly satisfying. If she'd leaned up and kissed him, he figured he wouldn't mind that either.

Soon he started feeling fuzzy with the sensation of sleep and without knowing when or how - he fell asleep with the 'bitch' curled up against him on the couch...with his shotgun still pulled apart over his lap.

* * *

Some obtrusive noise jolted him awake, which in turn seemed to be what woke up the girl. She made an almost pained noise before staring wide-eyed at the door to the left of the couch. Someone was hammering on the door; coughing and banging away. He was about to get up himself and shoot whoever it was to make such a loud assaulting noise when he fumbled groggily with the parts still poised on his thighs. He snatched at the barrel before it clattered to the floor as he turned his head, watching the girl stride to the vibrating door.

_'Always something…she needs to tell whoever it is to fuck off…'_

He frowned, strangely annoyed that their little 'moment' had been spoiled. He'd planned on waking her up with something more than a "good morning".

The door creaked and screamed, letting in a light that nearly blinded him, even though most of the sun was blocked by her figure and who ever it was at the door. The sounds for a moment were muffled, slow until she spoke loud enough for him to hear her clear as day.

"Cut the brahmin shit, what the fuck do you want?", her tone was barking and short. He turned an eye up to the door as he locked the barrel with the magazine.

He heard a male muffled slur; the tone was a cross between an insult and a question. He stopped in mid- latch as he stared fully at the door, watching the dark outline of the girl as some equally dark figure turned and shifted before him in the light. 'Who the fuck...it's him...the fuckin' raider.' He let out an unnatural growl and stood, not even bothering to be gentle as he tossed half of his shotgun on the couch.

"You gonna leh me in or whah?" He paused, watching as the girl arched backwards, avoiding some intrusion of her personal space. He heard her start to speak, a shrill sound leaving her mouth before it was cut off by a loud, less slurred male voice. "..or is that shuffler still in there with you? huh?" The man started to yell, pushing farther through the door judging by the back step the girl took. "Fuckin' zombie camping under yur bed!"

He saw red. Not caring that he practically threw the girl off the door and ripped his fists into the now clear face of the 'bald fuck'. The spit-fuck's eyes were wide but still stupidly angry. He smelt of booze and piss, probably drinking since he'd seen the shit on the balcony much earlier.

"Don't think I heard you with my dick in your mouth." He seethed, teeth clenched. The short spit-fuck rubbed him the wrong way the first time he saw him, and now he had an excuse to rip the ears out of his head.

The ex-raider looked baffled a moment, but too drunk to run with his tail between his legs. The asshole was even more hideous up close - the sight almost made him feel handsome...

"I ain't gonna be under handed by a fuckin' meat bag...", the shit wasn't yelling any more, he sounded just as angry as he was. Something bothered him about his tone, as if he'd been cheated out of something, and he almost got the feeling that the ex-raider knew what he was missing.

"You want some of this?", he threatened, constricting his throat so the muscles and veins bulged which turned his voice even more unhealthy and in-human. It wasn't even about the 'bitch' anymore, this was pure unadulterated male ego. He needed to beat him into a paste; unrecognizable. His fists constricted in the spit-fucks collar, ripping some of the seams before he released him with a push. The ex-raider stumbled, but not as much as he would have liked. The shit looked like he worked well on his liquor...

He felt a pressure on the back of his side. The girl was looking up at him, a look of malice on her face - though he could see some wariness hidden in the side of her eyes. She'd fucked this ex-raider at one point...he knew it. The look on her face told him she fucked him and instead of it making him feel cheap like he thought it would it just made him puff up more. His muscles tensed and expanded - the urge to make a point and horde what was his like some alpha Yao-guai came over him. She was his, and if he couldn't go back and slug this spit-fuck right in the face the first time he'd banged on the door then he would do it now.

It seemed the shit had similar plans, with a sharp intake of breath he narrowly avoided a fist to the face. His head lurched to the side and he had just enough time to growl before nearly hugging the ex-raider and tossing him inside the dim house. The man stumbled and the girl slammed the door shut behind them. He heard her lean back on the metal frame and knew she was going to remain where she was and watch like some special treat the boys were fighting over.

_'She can think whatever the fuck she wants..'_

The spit-fuck turned, teeth barred in a scowl just as tarnished as his own before aiming a quick punch to his stomach. The blow hit his side, but was weak enough that he could counter a strong smack to the side of the 'bald fuck's' face. He was bigger in every way than this man, and he almost felt disappointed he wasn't more of a challenge. Already the guy looked a little too wary to be up against him. 'Won't last five more minutes.' Still though, the ex-raider didn't fall, but grunted and stumbled with his back facing him.

He didn't expect his own shot gun hitting him across the face, he had to give the shit credit for that.

The metal slit a cut in his cheek and bruised one of his eyes. _'Fuck!'_ He grunted in pain, blinded half-way but able to catch the half-assembled shot gun in one hand before the shit struck him again.

He barely heard the 'bitch' behind him mutter a yell. With one hand ripping his gun out of the guys hand and the other pushing the girl back against the door roughly he then swung the butt of his gun like a bat into the forehead of the ex-raider. The guy's head whipped back, along with a spray of blood that gushed with a similar cut that he'd just received.

_'That's right...that's it.'_

The spit-fuck fell back, toppled over a table and spilling old empty Nuka-colas on top of himself. He watched him, breathing heavily with pent up rage and the burning along the left side of his face, as the man grasped his bleeding forehead. The grunt of pain made him smile.

He stepped up and swung a leg back, slamming it into the 'bald fuck's' side with a thick sound. The man cried out, coughed and grabbed at his leg as he went to kick him again. With a rough shake he was freed, stomping down on the ex-raider's shoulder with furry and all the strength he could muster. He heard the shoulder crack; either in breaking or dislocating he couldn't tell - he just cared about the scream it produced.

_'Music..'_

He kicked him once more, in the limp arm, getting another shaky cry from the man before placing a boot on his neck. He eased the pressure down slowly, watching as the shit's burnt face stared painfully up at him. A gurgle sounded under his foot as he kept the pressure firm, glaring down at him as the man started to choke.

"Charon...", he ignored her. Adrenaline was coursing through him, singing along his arms and legs and making everything that wasn't pleasant, numb. The look on the spit-fuck's face was changing from angry to terrified very quickly.

"If you kill him were going to be in big trouble...Simms...Simms will know, they'll all know it was us." _'You mean me…bitch._' He felt her hand on his arm, pulling it from his side where it had hung limply. All his energy was being put into his own leg, tensing with the pressure he was keeping over the man's neck. Again he heard a gurgled choke and grinned. His face darkened, eyes shimmering, even the one that was starting to redden with the broken blood vessels. He wanted to slowly kill him, not that the shit necessarily deserved it...

"You've hurt 'more' than his arm...", she tugged, being cautious he could tell. She was right though, he hurt his pride, which is what he wanted to do more than physically hurt him anyways. _'No way he'll come scampering back around here…around her again..' _He grunted, letting his body loosen, as well as the tension in his leg. Slowly and almost hesitantly he removed his boot from the ex-raider's neck. The man sputtered and gasped, reaching with the only hand that worked up to his neck where he pawed. The flesh was bruised and puffy. It was satisfying, just watching as the spit-fuck crawled halfway to the door, able to stand only briefly before collapsing again.

He didn't turn around to watch him stumble out the door, just kept his head to the side, seeing the blurry shapes out of his peripherals as the girl opened the door for the ex-raider to hurry as fast as he could with his pride dangling by a thread. It took a moment for her to shut the door; for the light to filter out the room and turn the dwelling back into its normally dim state.

The door locked with a click and then everything was eerily quiet. He was still pent up, he'd garnered all that aggression so he could crush the man's neck without care and now his blood was ripping through him like a speeding bullet, not slowly down fast enough.

Her presence came up on him slow, but his reaction to her was anything but. Before she could finish saying what she'd started with that open mouth of her he'd grabbed her, pulled her against him and shoved his now bloody ruined lips against hers. His hand found her ass and squeezed, getting a pained groan out of her. He busted her lip with his own judging by the taste of blood that wasn't his own touching his tongue.

With a hitch of her thigh up against his hip he pressed her roughly down into the couch, dust pushing up around them as he laid into her without mercy.

_'I'm anything but done.'_

_

* * *

_I almost feel bad for Jericho, I do like him, I just like Charon much more. :_)_


End file.
